
Mitchell Alexander Martyna Sr.

Death ends a life.
Not a Relationship.
- Mitch Albom
Obituary
Obituaries don’t usually focus on faults, but in Mitch’s case, it’s important to mention one of his: he was far too modest. He would have hated what you’re about to read. But since he’s no longer in a position to stop us, it’s now our prerogative to unapologetically list the reasons why we are utterly bereft without him.
At nearly 93, the arc of his life was long and full, but it ended far too abruptly. Although Mitch had been quietly and stubbornly battling cancer for years, it was a fall and subsequent brain haemorrhage that ended his life at Kelowna Hospice on January 20, 2025.
We were all hoping for a little more time. But Mitch always moved at his own pace, and it seems this was the way he preferred to bow out. The family takes great solace in the doctors’ reassurances that his passing was nearly painless. For a man who was always so agile in body, mind and spirit, we know that going out strong, rather than withering away, is exactly what he would have wanted.
Born in 1932 to immigrant parents from Poland in the hamlet of Edgerton, Alberta, Mitch entered the world in a simple log home without electricity, phone or plumbing—proof that humble beginnings and hard work can indeed lead to great heights. By the end of his life he and his wife Justine called Canada, Panama, Mexico and a motorhome in Europe, home. They welcomed everyone (friends, family, exchange students and home swappers) into each of these places with open arms and a lot of great stories. If you had something that just wasn’t working, Mitch was always at the ready with his toolbox and a lump of paraffin wax; he insisted this would make just about anything run a little smoother. It almost always did.
He was trilingual from a very young age. His first language was Polish, which he learned from his parents; his second was English, which he learned in a one-room schoolhouse (where lunch was always a jacket potato burnt black on an open fire); and his third was French, which he picked up making mischief with the local French Canadian community (hooking his bike to car bumpers, lighting grass fires, and sinking his horse and cart in the muskeg). His aptitude for languages and making friends gave him a great ear for people’s lives in general.
Mitch left high school at age 16 to try farming with his aunt and uncle. Winters were slow, so he worked part-time digging ditches in the oil patch. By the time he retired in 1988, he had risen to the role of Drilling Superintendent, despite lacking a formal engineering degree. This was a testament to his grit, intelligence and unassuming leadership. He was deeply admired by his colleagues, several of whom remained lifelong friends. It was always clear, to anyone who knew him well, that Mitch was a doer; sitting still at a school-desk for too long would never have suited him. But what he lacked in education he more than made up for with the wisdom one gains from traveling the world, listening to people, and having an open mind.
He met Justine Martyna (née Morin) playing badminton at the Catholic Youth Club in St. Albert. They married in 1960 and had four children together—Mitch Jr., Chuck, Roger, and Renée. The family was raised on a 320-acre farm near Shepard, Alberta, now the Ralph Klein Memorial Park and Environmental Educational Centre. This is a fitting legacy for Mitch, who loved landscapes most of all. His favourite pastime, right to the end (besides watching the “Trump Show”, of course) was listening to the birds and watching the wind blow through the trees.
Yet for all his more worldly accomplishments, it’s the little things we will remember most: the way he wore his ball caps so lightly, and slightly askew on his head; how he reused tea bags until they begged for retirement; how he still raved about his beloved 1956 pink Dodge; his disdain for sand between his toes or wind on his bare legs; his meticulous tracking of gas prices on all his international travels; his belief that Vaseline is a cure-all; and how, even in his 80s, he still loved to dance at weddings and ride a bike on vacation. It’s worth noting that he may well have been one of the best huggers the world has ever known. It’s hard to know for sure, but his nine grandchildren and seven great-grandchildren would surely say so.
He was a gifted storyteller; a go-to at bedtimes, campfires, weddings, and funerals. The saga of the balled-up sock, stuck in his pant leg (that he swore was a hamster headed north in a hurry) left us in stitches every time. Making Justine laugh may have been his greatest mission in life, because this wasn’t always easy to do, and so, there was nothing more satisfying to him. (And doesn’t every guy love a gal who is a challenge?). He could always lance an awkward silence with a perfectly timed— and quietly executed— jest. And so he taught us all the invaluable skill of laughing at life—and at ourselves.
His legendary “make-up kit” was full of life’s essentials: not just the requisite toiletries, but a voltage meter, a potato peeler, a Phillips screwdriver, some electrical tape, a fine-tooth comb, a plastic toothpick and obviously, a lump of paraffin wax. While his long johns wouldn’t fit in the bag, rest assured he always had a pair on hand, even in the tropics. These little secrets to his MacGyver-like sense of service to the world were cremated with him on January 24, 2025 at Springfield Funeral home in Kelowna, B.C. That’s how we know he’s well-prepared for his onward journey. He never needed much, which is, perhaps, why he was so generous with all who knew him.
Mitch left the world much larger for having been in it—warmer, funnier, and smoother (and not just because of the paraffin wax). His absence leaves an ache, but his memory leaves us giggling.
And so, you understand, he is already deeply missed.
For reasons of his aforementioned modesty, Mitch did not want a funeral. However, the family would like to honour him in the way he would have loved best: with friends, family and stories, on the farm. We plan to celebrate his life this summer at Ralph Klein Park in Calgary, on the site of our former family farm, in a landscape he once worked very hard to nurture and grow, amid the birds and the trees. We believe he would have liked that. After all, this was the site where many family reunions were hosted in the early days; a tradition that still remains strong amongst our 65+ extended and growing family of aunts, uncles and cousins. (Mainly thanks to the effort that Mitch and his siblings have put in to gathering us, and keeping us, all together).
Mitch was roundly adored by his brothers and sisters, for whom his absence will be indelible. It’s up to them and the next generation of Martynas, now, to uphold this legacy of connection.
If you knew and cared for Mitch, we hope you will join us on the old farm, a.k.a.: Ralf Klein Park. It will be a brunch, so if you need to travel a fair distance, we hope you will have time to get back and forth in a day. But if you feel too far or frail to attend in person, a simultaneous, online version of our gathering will be made available for you to take part in.
Please see the details below for updates on the event. We invite you to share your own photos, videos, and memories of Mitch on this tribute page, as well as condolences for the family. You can also learn more about the charity to which we encourage donations in lieu of food or flowers.
The extended Martyna family remains deeply grateful for your love and support in our time of grief.
Donations
In liew of offering food or flowers, we invite you to contribute to a cause that is important to our family; the BRAIN CANADA FOUNDATION. www.braincanada.ca
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This will not be a sad or somber event, but rather, a chance for us to be together in a place— our former family farm— where Mitch entertained all of us over the years, and where we all have many great memories to relive, and share. We ask that you join us in that spirit.
12350 84 St SE, Calgary, AB T3S 0A4