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My first pangs of "empty" swingset syndrome. :)

Main journaling reads:
I can remember
how thrilled we were
to give you this glider
That was seven years ago.
This winter, it finally broke.
Rusted away. Unusable.
It served us faithfully for many
adventures. To places, and
spaces in your imagination further
even than the moon. I’m grateful
it broke on the launchpad and not
in flight. The hardest part of the loss to
accept is that Daddy could fix it, but
there’s really no point in making the effort.

My spaces rangers are both too big for it now.


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