His side…

…of the bed is empty. He is up on a mountain, having carried 58 pounds of necessities on his back. That’s heavier than our 6-year-old.

It snowed there yesterday. Chances of overnight snow tonight. And another storm is blowing in on Tuesday— summit day.

He is no doubt shivering in 20-something degree weather, hunkered down in his down bag, wearing many layers and a beanie or two.

I bet his toes are froze. I bet his nose is froze. sigh how I love his nose…

I’m warm here in this house filled with kids, sad I’m not on this trip with him, and selfishly glad my fat ass had beer and pizza for dinner. I’m supposed to be there. I’m not. I’m glad and sad all at the same time.

I hope he will be safe. I hope he will take all precautions and not get summit hungry if the weather is foul.

One thing is for certain: neither one of us will sleep well tonight.