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. Iím 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 thereís really no point in making the effort.