Harold

Esther (87) and Harold (92) Strasser spent their married life on a farm by Wilmot, South, Dakota. Harold was a good farmer raising corn, wheat, and oats. He also milked cows and raised a few pigs. Following is a short article I wrote for one of my classes in school.

Mother-in-law jokes are common. Father-in-laws are often overlooked. Little did I know, when I first met my husband to be, that his father would be a huge influence in my life.

My first visit to the farm in Wilmot, South Dakota to meet Dale’s parents was in the winter of 1974. Mostly I was going so his parents could meet me and give their permission for Dale and I to become engaged (a requirement of our college). My fist real recollection of Dale’s father was New Year’s Eve of 1973. We drove to visit relatives in Summit, South Dakota. After we had played games and watched the New Year come in we piled into Dale’s father’s car. The temperature outside was about –20 degrees. Others joked about Harold not warming up the car for us knowing that he was quite conservative. “Not to worry,” he said in his quiet manner and off we started. Halfway home, out in the country, the car started spurting. I started to realize that I certainly would freeze rather quickly based on the clothing I was wearing. Harold was, however, able to coast into the yard of a nearby farm where they were able to thaw out our radiator.

That was is my first memory of Harold. I grew to know him as a hardworking, ever energetic farmer. I remember his light step , his short afternoon naps on the floor of the living room, and then off to work again. He was able to manage the soil to produce a good living for his family.

Yes, Harold could be considered “tight” by today’s standards. If he received a check, you could be sure it would get cashed that day. He planned for his future by saving and being thrifty. It was important to him to have enough saved up for the days ahead when he would retire. My husband remembers begging to stop at the local Dairy Queen for ice cream when he was young. Harold’s answer was usually, “We have ice cream at home.”

Harold was not only reserved with finances but he also could be characterized by his quiet, reserved manner. The tone of his voice was so gentle and quiet that I found myself leaning in to hear his voice. He became a standing joke at the family gatherings when he prayed. Everyone else at the table kept peeking to see if he had finished his prayer and started eating because we could not hear him as he prayed in his quiet reverent manner, almost inaudible to the rest of us. Harold was not quick to give compliments or to express his love for his children. He did not want to appear proud and I believe he was afraid that if he gave compliments to his children it would appear to be pride on his part and also to fill his children with pride. His expression of love though was clear when he would beg us to stay longer when we visited at Christmas and other holiday visits.

Along with his gentle, quiet manner, Harold had an unusual quality. He could not bring himself to say anything negative about anyone or anything. He would remain quiet or smile or even defend the person being talked about. One day I was asking Esther, his wife, about her father who was a family hero. She remembered her younger years when pressures were great and spoke about some difficult times. Harold soon spoke up and told about the times that Ben had taken him fishing and been so kind to him. Another time we took Harold and Esther out to eat at our local restaurant and we all ordered the special, broasted chicken. Noticing some leftovers in Harold’s plate, I asked, “How was the chicken dad?” He answered, “Good … in a way.” In what way wasn’t it good I asked. His response put us in stitches as he replied “it really wasn’t quite done.”

As Harold faced more and more disabilities in the aging process I have never heard him complain about anything. He has become the sweetheart of the Assisted Living Centers and most recently the Nursing Home. Even though he can no longer feed himself, he never complains about the food or his dependency on others.

In his attempt to continue to keep his dignity and at the same time losing control of every area of his life, Harold has matured into a kinder, gentler person. If we approach him about making changes it is not unusual to hear his answer,” Leave it go first.”

Today he lies sleeping in his single bed breathing in a sporadic manner. When I sit by his bed, I almost expect that at any time he will breathe his last. It is difficult for me to see life reduced to this.

But when he wakens, he smiles in spite of his almost frozen expression with his slow response. He knows us and we are able to share with him. He speaks but it is difficult to hear his voice and understand him. As we leave, we bend to hug him and tell him that we love him wondering if we will see him again. We have learned from this quiet man to be content with what we have and take life as it comes. Sometimes we need to see this simple lesson lived out before us.