Raisa Vasilii Spraiter

Raisa was the heart of her family, a woman of quiet strength, boundless generosity, and enduring grace. Raised by her devoted mother Lidiya, she learned early how to care for others—tending animals, helping around the home, and keeping things running even as a child.

She met her future husband while skydiving at the Chisinau Aeroclub. Their first kiss, suspended in a freefall on July 5, 1980, became a metaphor for the 45 years that followed—daring, devoted, and beautifully deep. While courting her, Vladimir used to call her at work and play the piano over the rotary phone. She was so delighted, she’d sometimes let her coworkers listen in, sharing the warmth and tenderness of those moments. Together they built a life, raised two children—Vovchik and Olchik—and stayed hand-in-hand through every challenge, celebration, and quiet moment in between.

Each summer, the family drove from Moldova to Russia for the skydiving season. Raisa anchored the chaos with grace—packing, cooking, and watching over everyone with warmth and tireless devotion.

Motherhood was her quiet calling. At home, she made sure her family was nourished, protected, and gently guided. She prepared meals from scratch, tracked weather with devotion, and waved from the kitchen window every school morning without fail. That wave became a ritual of love—quiet, steady, unforgettable.

Her heart was generous, her standards high, and her belief in kindness unwavering. She made a lot with very little, smiled at nature’s beauty, loved fiercely, and shaped her world with grace. Her instinct to give before taking touched countless lives. She was our compass, our warmth, our home. Her love remains, quiet and constant, in everything we do.