On 24th April 2025, Greg’s Snowdog and I reached Everest Base Camp, writes bereaved dad Paul Fears, reflecting on his most recent fundraising challenge for Tŷ Hafan Children’s Hospice as Fathers’ Day fast approaches.
After landing at Lukla in Nepal, our team had hiked for six and a half days, covering nearly 40 miles and ascending 2754 metres to 5364 meters above sea level.
We had crossed deep ravines on narrow suspension bridges, trekked up never ending steep climbs, and walked on so-called paths made up of glacial boulders. Dean, Leigh, Mark, Snowdog and I hugged each other and took loads of photographs. Our joy was mixed with relief, as there were times when we had all struggled. However, together we had pressed onwards, overcoming the draining and frightening effects of altitude, and reached Everest Base Camp.
Another challenge was nearly complete.
As I stood near the multitude of tents at base camp, tightly holding Snowdog, I thought of Greg and my Dad. I am not particularly religious, but as I stood near the top of the world I felt I was physically closer to both of them. Even as I write this, the statement makes no logical sense. But that was how I felt.
We reached base camp on the 24th April, which was also the four-year anniversary of losing my Dad. And I know how proud he would have been.
I miss my Dad, but the last two years have been a painful blur since losing our wonderful and magical son Greg. Losing a parent is the normal sequence of life, but losing a child is simply wrong. That grief never leaves you. You just learn to live with it, accepting that there are times when the grief will be almost unbearable. We miss Greg every day. Without him life just is not the same and never will be.
Greg was the bravest person I have ever known. Even when he was really poorly, he never complained. And he always had a smile for you.
So, when things got tough on the Everest Base Camp trek, I just thought of Greg. Again, it might sound strange, but I really did feel that he was by my side, along with my Dad. When I woke up one night in the early hours, struggling to breathe because of the altitude, I thought of Greg. His heart and lung condition had made breathing difficult for him, with oxygen saturation levels in the low 70s. Mine reached 76 at one point and, suddenly, I was aware of how he must have felt at times. In the dark hours of that bitterly cold morning, it was thinking about Greg that calmed my anxiety and, after over an hour, I managed to slip into a restless sleep.
Greg and my Dad were not my only inspiration. As part of my fundraising, people had bought stars which would feature names of their loved ones and many of those were Tŷ Hafan children. These were attached to my Cape For Loved Ones. Stopping was not an option as I wanted all those stars to reach the height of Everest Base Camp.
An important reason for taking on the Everest Base Camp Trek and other challenges is to raise both awareness of and funds for the wonderful Tŷ Hafan. My family is a Tŷ Hafan family and will always be a Tŷ Hafan family. The magical people of Tŷ Hafan cared for us all when Greg was with us and continue to provide support today. My relationship with grief is helped by counselling, funded by Tŷ Hafan. Through Tŷ Hafan, we get the opportunity to meet and talk with other Dads, Mums and siblings, many who have become close friends.
Every penny raised goes to Tŷ Hafan to help families like ours.
In reality, taking on physical challenges like Everest Base Camp is nothing compared to what some families face every day. Hopefully, the money Snowdog and I have raised in memory of Greg will ensure that more families like ours will get the help and support that they desperately need.