Climbing Hard Hills
This summer my daughter, Kailey, was turning 30. It was a milestone she both welcomed and dreaded. Like all of us, she had planned where she might be at 30 and while some of her expected goals had been achieved in three decades, others remained elusive. And like all of us, she worried much more about the ones not checked off rather than the ones she had celebrated.
In the summer of COVID there could be no grand party so our family gathered in a favorite place, Jackson Hole, joined by her great friend, Paris.
With so much to do beneath the majestic Grand Teton mountains, we planned a full few days of outdoor fun in the national park. Kailey and Paris were determined to complete one especially epic 20-mile, all-day hike to mark the big birthday. This adventure would require a 4:30 a.m wake-up call, backpacks, liters of water, and packed snacks. But as a mom, I was most worried about the five rented ice axes and spiked crampons they were carrying in their packs for ascending the final peak.
“If you fall, you could impale yourself!” I told them trying to be a voice of reason.
While I was not as worried about the full 10 hours it would take to complete this hike, I was worried about the few hours they would be spending ascending and descending a steep and rocky ice peak. But they were undeterred because they were too excited to consider the danger ahead. Only my daughter, Emma, seemed mildly terrified.
Pulling her aside the night before, I whispered, “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to!”
Emma and her twin, Maddie, have always wanted to follow their big sisters’ lead. “I can’t not go, Mom, if they are all doing it!” she told me.
So, I quietly appealed to my oldest, Lauren, to look out for her youngest sister and she agreed, “If she’s miserable, I’ll come back with her so you can pick us up.”
Charlie and I were still asleep when they drove off at dawn. All morning I checked my phone looking for an SOS text from one of the girls. At lunch, hours into their journey, I was sure there would be a, “come get us,” message if not from Emma, then from the whole group.
By afternoon, I thought maybe they had made it but began worrying about a trip to the ER for a gash from the ice pick or a tumble down the loose rock shale. But hours later, around 5 p.m. when the texts began coming in, they weren’t about rescue or danger, they were about exhilaration.
“We did it! On our way home!”
When my four daughters and Paris stumbled through the door, 12 hours after they began, my girls were dirty, exhausted, and triumphant. Full of stories and laughter about their arduous but unforgettable day. Kailey was ecstatic about reaching her goal and marking her 30th year with views from a 21-mile trek only a few ascend. And Emma, full of pride for not backing out—even though she clearly wanted to the night before.
Watching and listening as they recounted their day, I marveled at the women they had become.
As a mom, I was right to have concerns for their safety but I had forgotten about their collective strength. While anyone of them might have had trouble ascending alone, together they were formidable. When the miles had become long, they sang songs to pass the time and told stories to keep each other going. When Paris slipped on a steep, icy, slope, Maddie caught her to keep her from falling down the snowy embankment.
It is what we as women do best: lift each other up. We not only celebrate, we console. We proclaim and lament. We form a community that makes even the impossible possible.
At the top of the peak, there was a celebration of their ascent with a beer that each had carried in their backpacks.
One by one, my daughters stood on the highest point and posed in a way unique to each. Lauren, balancing on one leg, in a yoga-like stretch. Emma, flinging her arms in triumph. Kailey, arching, and posing in a full swig. And Maddie, jumping wide with both arms and legs suspended midair that I most certainly would have panicked watching had I been there on that peak.
Each of them their own women, and together, unstoppable.
This is what I hope for in this community we are creating with Women | Faith & Story. A group where we can create, inspire, and connect with each other. A place where we can reflect on each other’s strengths and encourage ourselves along whatever hard hills we have to climb. And of course, always be there to celebrate when we make it to the top.