The past two days have been surreal.
Last night, I saw Apollo 13 once again. Tonight, I attended Gene Kranz's talk. I talked to him.
Memories are flooding back to me.
The Moon globe in my grandfather's workshop. The first science book in my bookshelf. My Space Science class. Field trips. The Saturn V rocket at the Johnson Space Center. The mission simulation. Camping at McDonald Observatory. The Columbia disaster. The reporters in our classroom.
Space fascinates me. Space fascinates mankind.
The almost boundless and virtually unexplored void beyond our little planet draws us like moths. It has been this way since man appeared, and I assume will remain so for the remainder of our stay on Earth.
I can't fully explain what I feel when I look around the Mission Control room.
I can't fully explain what I feel when I see the surface of the Moon.
I can't fully explain what I feel when I recount the great stories of the age of space exploration.
But there's a longing. And some exhilaration. I know it's my world, but that I won't ever be part of it.
I wanted to be an astronaut until a well-intended cousin told me that my less-than-perfect vision was an obstacle I couldn't overcome.
Since then, I've taken other paths. I'll never be the first woman on the Moon, the first human on Mars, I'll never grow plants in zero-g.
But I'm still part of that world, through such wonders as NASA streaming on the web, movies like Apollo 13, and opportunities like tonight.
And I love what I do.
Most of all, The Boy also shares this passion. We studied together to memorize the craters of the Moon, we presented insulation foam and freeze-dried food to student fairs, we discussed Gene Kranz's signature vest, we worked our way through checklists and problems to take a simulated flight mission to successful completion.
Some days, I really think I'm on top of the world.
Last night, I saw Apollo 13 once again. Tonight, I attended Gene Kranz's talk. I talked to him.
Memories are flooding back to me.
The Moon globe in my grandfather's workshop. The first science book in my bookshelf. My Space Science class. Field trips. The Saturn V rocket at the Johnson Space Center. The mission simulation. Camping at McDonald Observatory. The Columbia disaster. The reporters in our classroom.
Space fascinates me. Space fascinates mankind.
The almost boundless and virtually unexplored void beyond our little planet draws us like moths. It has been this way since man appeared, and I assume will remain so for the remainder of our stay on Earth.
I can't fully explain what I feel when I look around the Mission Control room.
I can't fully explain what I feel when I see the surface of the Moon.
I can't fully explain what I feel when I recount the great stories of the age of space exploration.
But there's a longing. And some exhilaration. I know it's my world, but that I won't ever be part of it.
I wanted to be an astronaut until a well-intended cousin told me that my less-than-perfect vision was an obstacle I couldn't overcome.
Since then, I've taken other paths. I'll never be the first woman on the Moon, the first human on Mars, I'll never grow plants in zero-g.
But I'm still part of that world, through such wonders as NASA streaming on the web, movies like Apollo 13, and opportunities like tonight.
And I love what I do.
Most of all, The Boy also shares this passion. We studied together to memorize the craters of the Moon, we presented insulation foam and freeze-dried food to student fairs, we discussed Gene Kranz's signature vest, we worked our way through checklists and problems to take a simulated flight mission to successful completion.
Some days, I really think I'm on top of the world.
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