South Africa was one of my impulse purchases. A week safari was offered at a live auction and I thought it sounded like a good idea. I began raising my paddle as GB looked at me in astonishment. Maybe horror. I know he was shocked as I hadn’t mentioned that I would suddenly decide to do this. The safari was a bargain. It was $3500. I hadn’t given much thought to the cost of the remainder of the trip: business class tickets from Denver to Johannesburg; in country flights on little propeller driven planes, hiring a driver, renting a car, going on a shark dive.
It was the shark dive that made GB gulp. “No, I said, “this’ll be fun. We’ll get in a cage and see what happens.”
The trip leading up to the shark dive was fulfilling on so many levels. Best part was spending a day at a water hole visited by elephants, inyalas, zebra. Although we had a driver, we decided to rent a car for the drive from Cape Town to Gansbaai. We stayed at an Airbnb on the rocky beach that greeted the Indian Ocean. The next morning we walked to the dock and boarded a rickety boat. The captain was certain to let us know that this was an environmentally approved voyage and he proceeded to inform us how the rampant slaughter of great white sharks had upended the oceanic habitat. Too many seals now eating the fish upon which the locals relied for sustenance. The seals couldn’t be culled because the din of the outcry would put a quick end to the effort to rebalance the environment.
Now, I have not mentioned before but I will now, that I suffer from horrible sea-sickness. I’m okay unless the boat stops and begins bobbing in the water. I hadn’t anticipated the bobbing part and even though I had taken numerous anti-nausea medications for this adventure, I realized that I was going to be sick if the boat stopped in the middle of the ocean and began bobbing and rolling and bobbing and rolling.
The boat did just that. Stopped. Bobbed. Rolled. The captain lowered our cage to be flush with the water. I looked at the ocean and realized I would not be getting in that cage. The water looked cold. I encouraged GB to go ahead while I began throwing up off the back of the boat.
And he did. Six people crammed into the cage while the Captain chummed the waters. No sharks took the bait. The crew suggested rotating the guests with the promise that once sharks began arriving, the first group could go back in. Seemed fair. GB was the last one climbing out when the biggest damn shark I’ve ever seen (of course, I haven’t seen many) showed up and began thrashing his body against the cage. I paused throwing up long enough to notice that GB was trapped in the cage but worse, I saw his hands and feet sticking out of the bars! “Put your hands in for God’s sake! You’re a dentist. You need them”. The other guests looked at me like I was some sort of monster. But I was giving good advice. He’d need those fingers later.
I returned to my throwing up.
After an hour, GB was able to get out. The shark left and the other guests were now hateful towards both of us because GB had the great adventure and all I did was throw up and not accept their well-meant advice to stare at a point across the water. To be fair, there was no point across the water. There was just one wave after another, rolling and rocking the damn boat.
GB returned from the great adventure, and he was, as always, starving. The boat was stocked with some horrible sandwiches stuffed with unidentifiable meat paste which no one else wanted to eat. He ate them all.
So when I let GB know some 15 years later that we had to go to Rwanda and sit with the gorillas, he was game for it. We made the arrangements. Covid intervened and cancelled our trip.
Two years later, GB had begun to fade away. He couldn’t really walk. His falls were frequent. The incontinence was a barrier to a trip that required lengthy hikes and climbs.
My desire to go to Rwanda was overwhelming. In 2022 I planned the trip again for September. I intended to go alone. It was something I had wanted to do for many years. I felt comfortable traveling abroad by myself and I felt completely comfortable going to Rwanda. As it happened, two friends , Linda and Cathy wanted to join me. Linda met us in Kigali and Cathy and I flew together from Denver.
I was uncomfortable leaving GB for any length of time so this trip was designed for 10 days. Very short. Crazy to fly so far for such a short time. My reasoning was sound. I wanted only to see the primates: the chimps, the Golden Monkeys and the Gorillas. The magnificent Mountain Gorilla hunted nearly to extinction for no damn reason except the hubris of the trophy hunter.
Every minute of this short trip was magnificent. We learned about the genocide: how it happened and how it stopped. We learned about the Herculean efforts of this tiny country to sustain itself after losing an entire generation to war. We talked with people who had lost their families to the genocide. They spoke openly and passionately.
The government of Rwanda tightly controls gorilla tourism. There were 10 gorilla families that had been habituated to the presence of humans. Ten groups of eight people each were permitted on the mountain each day. Guides led each group up a different route to find the gorillas.
The trip was a challenge. I never thought I’d find God on the edge of a volcano. But I found something indescribable. I left everything I had on the Volcano where the gorillas lived. I climbed over rocks and up the hills. The hour spent with the gorillas defy description or explanation. I knew I would have to digest the experience. I stepped gingerly down the mountain.
I came home on a Tuesday night and woke up on a Friday morning. I knew what needed to be done with our lives. It was clear that decisions needed to be made and I needed to make them. I first took the money from GB. A quick look at his accounts informed that decision. I then decided how we would spend funds in the future. Investments first. House second. Life insurance last. I was finally comfortable with how the future would work financially. And, I was able to emotionally put my darling husband; the man who didn’t deserve whatever was happening, didn’t deserve this suffering, and didn’t deserve the humiliation of the loss of control of his mind and body….yes that man who had given me nothing but love and support for 48 years . . . .who had loved and cared for his patients as though they were delicate pieces of crystal . . . .I put him into a small box inside my brain. That’s where I put the stress, the anger, the hopelessness, the fears, and the sadness. The rest of my brain remained intact for me so I could make good decisions, keep my life going while caring for his and enjoying the time we have. I had found balance. At least temporarily and I hoped permanently.
GB asked me how I felt when I was surrounded by 25 gorillas.
I felt nothing, I said.
Nothing. No fear. No elation. No surprise. No sadness. No desire to touch them or have them touch me. I wasn’t little or big. I wasn’t important. Or not.
I was a tree. A bush. A top of the ground. The bottom of the sky. I was part of the glorious universe, and it was a part of me.
Figure 1 Silverback
Air. 
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