Sparky

 

 

 

"At one time I thought he was the strong, silent type. I learned he really was the rudder of the family. He and my Mother-in-Law made a great team indeed..."

My Father-in-Law passed away earlier this month. He was just shy of his 91st birthday. He was a proud member of our December birthday club. My wife's is on the second, mine is on the 6th, my Son-in-Law's is on the 8th and my Father-in-Law's was on the 11th. His was the last birthday before Christmas. We were just joking about that at his care conference a week before he passed. We had a big blow out party on his 90th, and we were trying to decide what to do on his 91st. The best laid plans.

My aim is not to talk about my Father-in-Law's heath problems towards the end. It is not to talk about the pneumonia which came like a thief in the night to end his suffering. Rather, my goal is to talk about Sparky. It is a name I would call my Father-in-Law with reverence and respect. My Father-in-Law, a lifelong electrician, earned that nick-name, over and over again.

Before age and his health problems caught up with him, Sparky was always there for us when projects called. Either he would volunteer, or more likely his wife of 57 years would say, "Ken - the 'kids' (we were always the kids no matter how old we were) need help with (name the project)". Now, I never took advantage of Sparky's kind heart nor willingness to help. The project would have to be way outside my comfort zone (usually involving electricity) before the S.O.S. went out to my in-laws.

After the project was over, Sparky and I would join the girls in the kitchen. They had been making something tasty for us to share for dinner. First, we usually had a wee bit if libation, maybe some snacks, and of course, quite a bit of good humor. After dinner and desert were over, Sparky and Ma (the term of endearment Sparky called my Mother-in-Law) would leave. Even though we often worked hard on the project at hand, the day always ended well. What I did not realize was simply this - those were the "good old days", and we were living them. Oh, to have just one of those weekends back. The project, the food, the laughter, the love. I miss them.

Now Sparky and Ma are reunited in a place which was promised to them through their faith. There is no more pain, no more suffering, no more falls, no more labored breathing. Only peace and joy in the Lord. Those left behind have only our memories - and many, many of them were good. We are also reminded that our time here is precious and short. We know that even as tough as some of our days might be, they will be remembered in years to come as "the good old days".