The Glass Cup: A Story of True Friendship

I had a dream. A dream to climb one of the seven peaks of the world, the majestic Kilimanjaro. The highest mountain in Africa was calling my name, and I was ready to answer. I had booked my flight to Tanzania, packed my gear, and trained for months. I was all set to go in 2022, with my best friend by my side.

But fate had other plans. Plans that involved me staying home and cheering on the most important person in my life, as she embarked on her own journey. A journey that was much harder and scarier than climbing any mountain. A journey that required courage, strength, and love.

I won’t call myself a Sherpa, because that would imply that I helped her carry her load. I didn’t. I couldn’t. All I could do was be her cheerleader, her supporter. And that’s what I did.

I am proud of her, of course. But I am also proud of my friend, who went on to conquer Kilimanjaro without me. He didn’t let me down. He didn’t let himself down. He came back with stories, photos, and memories that I could only imagine. He also came back with something else. Something that changed my life.

But before I tell you what that is, let me tell you how we became friends in the first place.

It all started with a Boom Boom drink. A drink that he introduced me to at a party. A drink that consisted of Sprite, Tequila, and a lot of fizz. A drink that you had to chug down before it spilled over. A drink that made me laugh, cough, and bond with him instantly.

We had a lot in common, besides our love for those drinks. We both enjoyed hiking, mixed martial arts, and our families. We both had a sense of adventure and a thirst for challenge.

We also had a friendly rivalry, which led to some memorable moments.

Like the time he came over to my house and challenged me to a grappling match. I was a 190-pound bodybuilder back then, with muscles that looked good but didn’t do much. He was taller than me, but lighter. I thought I could easily overpower him and teach him a lesson. Boy, was I wrong.

He threw me around like a ragdoll, using his judo skills to flip me, pin me, and choke me out. He showed me no mercy, no pity, no respect. He made me tap out over and over again, until I was gasping for air and begging for mercy. He made me realize that I was weak, that I needed to train harder, that I needed to learn how to fight. This experience motivated me to sign up for Krav Maga classes, which I went on to take for the next seven years.

That was one of the many times he pushed me to be better, to grow, to improve. He was always there for me, as a friend, as a brother.

Now, tangent over to Rock Climbing. In rock climbing, a “hold” is something you grab onto to pull yourself up or push yourself off. A hold can be the difference between falling and rising, between failure and success. A hold can save your life. My buddy has been my "hold" during this difficult time. Someone I can rely on, someone I can trust.

And so this is the magical glass cup he gave me, handcrafted by the man himself, during his glass blowing phase. Every day, I sip from the cup that rests on my desk. It is not just a cup, it is a symbol of what I define as true friendship. Whenever I feel lost or overwhelmed, I hold onto that cup for dear life, as if I were on the cliff of a mountain, overlooking an abyss.

Thanks my friend! We did not climb Kilimanjaro together, but we are climbing this mountain together.