Having just turned sixty and facing retirement, I knew that I needed something - something big - to counteract the angst I was feeling. So I climbed 19,300 feet to the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro!

My daughter, Meredith, who had just turned thirty years old, did it with me. At first, my husband (who won't get on an airplane) didn't want to talk about such a trip, but he turned out to be our biggest supporter. He encouraged us to train, and I started climbing mountains in my area, while hauling a backpack full of tomato cans. My daughter took her unruly pup on hikes and tagged after him for hours.

Before we knew it, it was time to go. I was nervous about flying for twenty-two hours. We arrived exhausted, but had a day before our ascent to adjust to the time difference.

Meredith and I visited the nearby town. We were struck by the varied dress of the locals. Children wearing Nike T-shirts shared the same streets as men dressed in Masai warrior costumes.

We traveled from the jungle to the artic in nine days and slept under the stars. I had no idea how cold it would get at night. Even with gloves and hats, we were freezing. Our guide dispatched a porter to bring us another sleeping bag to use as a blanket. That act of kindness made us comfortable for the rest of our trip.

Finally, it was time to climb. There were moments when I didn't think I could take another step, and doubted that I would summit. But I did make it! And summiting Mt. Kilimanjaro with my daughter by my side was awesome. There we were - above the clouds - taking pictures. Meredith had written on a piece of paper "Thanks Mom" and held it up before I snapped a shot of her. I'll never forget that.

I had set a goal and accomplished it, and I felt empowered. I reflected on how I could use this opportunity to move forward; and I decided that retirement meant only the end of a job - not the end of my life.