Good morning, Vietnam!

She's gone. After all that planning and all that scrimping and saving to get the funds together, after the school's concern that she's not punctual enough, and all the medical clearances (because of her scoliosis, her ADD, her allergy to bandaids, the fact that she had a febrile convulsion at age two, and one other thing that I can't currently remember) we've had to get, she's finally gone.

She stood in the car park, loaded up with pack and daypack, and I don't know who was more nervous: her or me. But I didn't let her know that I had anything but the utmost faith in her going on this journey. My mother said that she wouldn't have let me go at PS's age. And she's not very mature for her age -- but then neither was I. I did a lot of growing up on my travels (but then I was 24!).

This expedition will try her, and there will be times when, no doubt, she will be lonely, homesick, and wishing she had never gone. But there will be times that will exhilarate her. Times that will challenge her and make her grow. Times when she has never felt more alive.

Am I nervous about her going? You bet -- and if anything goes wrong then I'll never forgive myself. But neither would I forgive myself if I held her back. Two days I gave her the most precious gift a mother can ever give: I gave her the world.