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It is with great sadness that I have to report that Harald, our wonderfully jolly handyman, died this morning at 6am. It was peaceful and during his first night in palliative care. He wanted to spend his last days with his family and he managed to get his wish.
Just about every room in our Trosa house reminds me of Harald. He has painted rooms, put down new floors, completely remade the shed and, his pièce de résistance, he (and Roger) built the deck. It is almost like he is part of the house. Actually, given he attempted to slice his hand off when he was attaching Mirinda’s carpentry joy, he really is part of it.
And we have a constant reminder of him on one specific board in the house.
When we moved in, a board in the kitchen had been marked off to show the relative heights of the previous occupants, showing not only the growing kids, but also the parents and grandparents. I decided we should maintain this tradition by adding the heights of guests who stay in the stuga.
When we hired Harald and Roger to paint the rooms, I specifically pointed out to Harald that he must not paint the measuring wall. He thought it quite funny. To be honest, Harald found a lot of things I did and said, funny. He especially loved it when I yelled “SHUT UP, EMMA!” when he arrived at the house to her raucous, high-pitched barking.
Anyway, he didn’t paint the measuring wall. In fact, he added to it.
A true giant of a man, I can’t see anyone getting any taller.
Thank you, Nicoline for introducing us to Harald and thank you, Harald, for being an excellent handyman and such a lovely, lovely man. We will miss you.
