As Elsa arrived home, she took one look at the old wood stove suspended in a harness from the rafters of our carport and muttered, “I don’t even want to know.” Then she walked into the house and poured herself a glass of wine.

To be fair, only a week earlier, I had promised Elsa I would hire someone to install our new gas stove and dispose of the old wood stove. But when I called the installer and he quote an installation price that exceeded the cost of the new stove, I felt that tingle of DNA, inherited from my father, that made me wonder if I couldn’t do it myself.

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The project started small. Maybe I can just pick up the new stove and save the $100 delivery fee. Getting it into the trailer was easy, old Buck from Buck’s Stove Palace loaded it with a forklift. Getting it off the trailer was a bit trickier since it weighed nearly 400 lbs and Elsa wasn’t home to help me. Rigging up some pulleys with a come-along attached to the rafters I was able to lift the stove, and then drive the trailer out from under it, then gently lower the crated stove to the ground where I moved it with a dolly and set it safely in the carport for the installers.

That task completed I wondered next if I could remove the old stove and save myself the $400 disposal fee. So I began dismantling the stove pipe, and then had to use that long dormant physics degree by creatively implementing rollers, levers, ramps and winches, trading force for distance to cajole the 600 pound wood stove off its pedestal, out the sliding glass door, down the steps and finally into the trailer reversing the process I had used to unload the new gas stove.

I did this carefully, unsure of the condition it needed to be in to be accepted by the metal recycler. Hauling and unloading the stove to the metal recycling turned out to far easier than I expected as they lowered a metal crane with a claw at the end, clamped down on the stove, hoisted it up and unceremoniously flung it to the top of a massive pile of metal. Apparently, the weight of the stove was all that mattered, the condition of the stove was irrelevant. The recyclers paid me $14 for my trouble and I was on my way. I was feeling pretty good.

With the old stove gone and the installers scheduling weeks out...what if just put the new stove in place myself. And what if I just put the stove pipe in place. And what if I just hooked up the gas line myself. It wasn't perfectly straightforward, but it wasn't hard either and after a day or so I had everything put together.

The moment of truth… I lit the pilot light, then clicked the stove to “on” and with a whoosh it started. And besides saving some money, I have total and complete satisfaction of having done the job myself and it looks amazing. I smile every time I turn on the fire…which is daily…sometimes multiple times a day. Elsa likes it too!

On our New Year’s card, we suggested that 2019 was the year of love, loss, laughter and lament.

For the past 13 years or so, Elsa and I have been holding a tradition of writing down our goals for the forthcoming year and then reviewing our previous year’s goals and activities. Over the years we’ve had travel goals, financial goals, goals around exercise, or doing more outside activities like hiking, kayaking, or snowshoeing. We have a few goals that seem to be aspirational (Eric to learn Spanish and guitar) which get thrown on onto the list each year, but never seem to get accomplished. And there are other goals (travel to the Galapagos) that might take a couple years, but they get done. To this tradition of setting annual goals we also added a new tradition of celebrating the completion of goals by setting aside special bottles of wine with a tag to drink upon a goals’ completion.

Our trip to the Galapagos was a definite highlight of 2019, the completion of an annual goal and a wine goal (double win!) The animals on the Galapagos Islands, while not as numerous as those we saw on our rich Costa Rica adventure of 2017, were nevertheless quite spectacular if for no other reason than that they were completely unafraid of people. We had to be careful to give the birds, sea lions, and iguanas a healthy space buffer or they would be hanging out in your lap. If you didn’t pay attention, a sea lion might come up and give your arm a lick, just to see how salty you are (Elsa is very salty). We even had a sea lion join us in the boat!  

And, of course, the birds are remarkable and unique to the Galapagos. The pair of “Red Footed Booby Chicks” on the front of our holiday card reminded us of the two grumpy old men on the Muppet Show and we thought in anticipation of our 50th birthdays in 2020 would make an appropriate statement about how we feel about turning half a century old. Sassy and undeterred by our grey hair! We may look old, but we are just getting started!

But along with the joys of traveling in Ecuador with Eric’s Aunt Bernice, there were some poignant losses this year. Eric’s father, Ron, passed away. He died of an infection which while theoretically treatable was one he chose not to treat because after a decade of accelerating memory losses and a declining quality in his everyday life, he was “ready to be done.”  

As I noted in my talk at his memorial, it was just 9 months earlier that he was crawling through caves in Vietnam as a tourist, but two weeks after the trip, he couldn’t remember it at all. Dad went out on his own terms and kept his sense of humor and his great heart intact. We all had a chance to say goodbye a week before he finally succumbed to the inevitable.  [As many people have noted, hospice is an incredible service and I was so grateful for their thoughtful care in his final week.]

Elsa and I also had to put down Siena, our 16-year-old terrier, this year. Her daily absence from our life has been acutely felt. Siena’s health had been in decline over the past couple of years with cataracts, loss of hearing, decreasing appetite, and then finally an injury to one of her back legs which left her unable to walk. That little dog had a lot of love and wow do we miss her.  

I know some of you who are reading this letter had losses of your own. Some expected, some tragic and too soon. I am struck at every loss with the mystery of where that spark of life goes when it departs a body. And where does this grief come from? Where does it go?  These are our laments, we who keep carrying the light.

Elsa and I had some lovely unexpected experiences in 2019: A visit from Eric’s mom that involved wine tasting, kayaking, and an ass-kicking 7.8 mile (3200’ elevation gain) hike (go mom!); a healthy first year for Eric’s co-owned company (now with 17 consultants), a completely joyful Thanksgiving with friends and family with plenty of laughter, an unexpectedly enjoyable holiday concert with Storm Large (“Storm Large’s Holiday Ordeal” – check it out if you can), a deep dive into wine tasting, Eric driving a U-Haul with his friend Gregg from Michigan to California (more laughter), a trip to Nashville, multiple opportunities to create deepening friendships, Elsa finding passion in her work, and us finally selling our rental house in Lincoln City (cheering goes here).  

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And there were house projects. A new stone retaining wall next to our driveway and a stone boulder wall (4.5 tons of rock) to line the front yard took engineering and stamina. (Moving boulders is a great alternative to gym membership). As mentioned earlier, I replaced our 35-year-old out-of-compliance wood stove with a new gas stove and built a woodshed to store wood for our outdoor firepit, both lovely additions. Sitting by the fire (inside or out) has become a favorite activity, giving both of us a chance to talk about our lives and fall more deeply in love with each other by the light of the flickering flames.  

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This next year we are looking forward to solidifying our careers and celebrating some personal milestones. In 2020 Elsa and I both turn 50, we celebrate 20 years in our relationship together, 15 years in our house, and two years of owning a Tesla (forgot to mention that last year). We are dog-free, kid-free, (aside from our mortgage) debt-free, and fancy free.   There’s a lot to celebrate.  

Today as we were walking the backroad near the Mt Rainier cabin (another tradition) we talked about our good fortune at living in a nice home, with a nice view, having meaningful work, hosting a bounty of good friends and family who care about us, being able to afford trips to wonderful places, having access to a cabin in the woods, strong health, and having found each other in our relationship that has grown stronger over these past twenty years. We appreciate it. We know it can end at any time. But we also feel the power in learning to let go when it’s time. So with that we say goodbye to the decade of the tens and move into the roaring twenties. Let’s make it spectacular.

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Love Eric and Elsa