He is off. Into a vast ocean that no one really knows the depths of. Floating in a man made contraption built by humans. It's not like I am so worried that he will fall into the Mariana Trench or anything like that but its almost like that bobber you see on the end of a fishing line...sitting right on the surface, bobbing up and down...
I was so used to having him home, then when he moved out to his duty station, I was so used to having him to talk to several times a day...now I am left with none of those things...just email....and in case you are wondering. the crappy weed eater is still broken!
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