I'm really glad I moved, but this is one of those days I miss New York like fucking hell, and curse myself for wondering when it will be that I return once again.
As for me, the seven extraordinary days of Apollo 13 were my last in
space. I watched other men walk on the Moon and return safely, all from
the confines of Mission Control and our house in Houston. I sometimes
catch myself looking up at the Moon, remembering the changes of fortune
in our long voyage, thinking of the thousands of people who worked to
bring the three of us home. I look up at the moon and wonder, when will
we be going back, and who will that be?
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