My husband, Gary, and I climbed several mountains during his cancer years. The highest elevation we ever reached was a trail ending at an icy-cold lake in the Colorado Rockies — 13,850 feet up.
My flight to Tucson earlier this week included three legs and two layovers that totaled twelve hours from drop-off to pick-up.
But I was prepared. I brought reading materials. And an intention to look for opportunity to do a random act of kindness. Or two.