I experience painting climbing every time I choose to go on a climbing trip over spending time with my mom.

My mom was diagnosed with a slow progressing type of ALS when I was 11, but by a miracle of the

universe, I still have her in my life. She's dying. She's been dying slowly since I was a kid.

I feel a serious tug on my heartstrings

each time I go into the desert or the mountains

facing unknown, immeasurable consequence

if something should go wrong.

What do I choose to stir death

or serious injury in the face

when she doesn't have that option?

She cannot physically do anything anymore.

She's to think about dying every day.

I don't have the answer. I probably never will.

I understand that climbing is just something so intrinsic to my nature.

It is something I must do.

I'll never fully understand why.