He launched when I was four. I remember riding in Mother's car to the Cape, watching the rocket rise into the sky on top of that impossibly bright light, and covering my ears and crying because of the noise.
We'd get video messages every week like clockwork for a long time, personal messages he recorded for Mother and me, and we'd watch them curled up together on the couch. Then men in uniforms came and told Mother there wouldn't be any more, and she cried, and later that same day we moved in with Grandma.
He's still up there, somewhere.