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It’s so difficult when your only offspring is impossibly far away. You who have no offspring have no blame; perhaps for you, it’s another ache that plagues you, day in, day out. Something that occupies your dawn thoughts. I don’t know.

But to have someone that exists in the world which actually is quite small (I could be there within 24 hours, if I wanted to be) yet so far (like, somewhere near Tranquillity Base) is a special trial.

I have a clock. I have several of them, in fact. Some of them tick. I hate those clocks that tick. Because they remind me every tick how many seconds of my son’s life that I am missing. That he might be missing of me.

I know, it’s not a perfect world, an ideal world. I know we must make do with what we have. And I know above all, it’s ridiculous to whine when I actually HAVE a son to whine about. But sometimes the absence weighs heavy and affects everything I do, no matter whether I recognize it or not.

I’ve gotten off luckier than most. I always tell myself that. What if, what if . . . what if I’d married some woman who lived in Montreal and had a son with her. Hey, I’d be able to have him every weekend! Why did I choose to marry someone who basically for all intents and purposes resides on the moon? Huh? What was I thinking?

Well, the answer is that I was not thinking.

Not bitter — if anything, I am not that. People tell me, good people, that when he gets older it will be my turn, that he needs his mother, that I’m getting off lucky, that when he’s able to make his own decisions all will be well, but I can only think of his precious childhood slipping half a world away and sometimes the thoughts become hard, especially hard when I know it affects those around me who have no idea I’m thinking these things and just how possibly badly they’re affecting me.

Even _I_ don’t have a clue how much they’re affecting me. But I guess they must be.

Aaah, don’ worry, I’ll get over it. Someday.

Cloudy today. Who's in charge of the weather?