
Due to the passing of Robert Sprole, my Father-in-Law, I have not posted for awhile.
The absence of our live-in Grandpa figure has caused a few rearrangements in our domestic scene.
The experience of grief, all too commonly human, occurred. Dad Sprole called us into his room two days before he died, telling us that this was it and he wanted us to know that he loved us all. Each of the kids spoke to him and assured him of their love as did Lillian and myself. The next days were days of vigil for Lillian and I. I had the privilege of sitting with Dad as he left behind the tent of his spirit. One moment he was asking for help to sit up, which I helped him with and then when he settled back down, he took some deep breaths and then was very quiet. Still is a much better word for that was all. I called the Hospice service and they came out and confirmed
it.
The local cremation society took the body and did what Dad Sprole wished and had set up beforehand. Later on, we will take Dad and Mom Sprole's Urns up North and inter them.
We called him the "Manic Mechanic". He always had to be doing a project at the hottest time of the year here in Florida, the summer! He couldn't figure out why no one wanted to help him work in the garden when the weather was in the 90 to 100 degree range. During the cooler months of the year he just settled for more quiet pursuits. It wasn't just gardening either that he was into. I noticed a trend with him. He would try to invent projects where there was no need, just to be engaged in what he liked best to do-tinkering.
Two summers ago, in Orlando area, we were able to get him to a private aircraft hanger where a club of collectors maintained 5 or 6 mustangs of the type Dad used to fix at Bodley, UK air base in WWII. He was ecstatic. The club owners were great. How animated they became when I told them that I had an actual mechanic who worked on their planes when they were new and in original condition! They welcomed us into their private domain and man did that hanger floor shine! Any oil spills were immediately phasered away or whatever magic they used to keep the museum quality of that hall of preserved flight. Then we saw a couple of the planes fly by.
Last Autumn, Lillian took her Dad up North and then down to DC to see relatives, a last jaunt as it were. We offered him a trip out West but he chose family!
Our family's lives were enriched by this mechanical gentlemen, our live-in Grandpa, Robert Sprole. His years were 93 and full. He experienced the Model T right up through the Space Age. He outlived all his generational siblings. He often wondered why he had been spared and we always told him, he was spared for us! We have been and always will be blessed.