Kilimanjaro

My children have each experienced devastating tragedy. People close to them have died while challenging themselves physically, and obviously tempting nature.

Five months ago when Aron decided that he wanted to climb Kilimanjaro with two friends, I supported him but I was cautiously anxious. People say that these are well-worn paths, trekked by thousands of individuals. This is somewhat true, but I was aware that a six day excursion to close to 20,000 feet of altitude over steep, punishing terrain that would take my son from the parched, dusty Tanzanian village of Moshi to the howling, freezing hail atop Uhuru Peak, would be filled with inherent danger. Before Aron departed, we discussed my fears. He had prepared himself mentally, physically, and in terms of having the proper gear for rain, snow and frigid temperatures. Last fall, he was the guy working out in hiking boots at his local gym. He promised me that he would turn back if he felt debilitated by the altitude. He would e-mail before and after the journey.

True to his word, he stayed in touch. And for that, I will always be grateful. With his itinerary in hand, I was following his every step, form the Shira Plateau to the Karanga Valley. Those last few nights when I knew he could be approaching the "roof of Africa", I couldn't sleep. I tried to keep my imagination at bay, but it was hard not to picture him hypothermic or crawling, exhausted toward a rugged precipice.

I was elated when I received his message on day 6 that all three had reached the summit and were already safely at the base. The sobering news came at dawn the next morning. Loose boulders sliding down the mountain had seriously pummeled another group from Zara, the same guide service that Aron and his friends were using. They had been hiking on a different
route called the "western breach". Three climbers were killed and others were injured, two critically.

All that day and into the evening, I prayed, an unusual practice for me. My phone rang and my computer beeped each time a relative or friend wanted to inquire about my son's whereabouts. I bathed my grandson and cooked an elaborate dinner for my family. We were spared this time. I know what Aron will say when we finally have a chance to talk. Accidents happen, especially when you challenge nature, no matter how skilled you are. He would not trade this adventure which I'm certain required pushing himself over his limits, for anything.