Much of my childhood was spent with an eye on the stars. I envisioned myself orbiting the earth on a space shuttle or headed beyond earth’s gravitational pull on a mission to Mars. I read everything I could about space travel. I even went to Space Camp as an 8th grader in 1987.
Side note: my mom sent me a link to a Slate.com post about Space Camp complete with pictures from that era. No, I’m not in these pictures. But I do have a picture of the simulator seat I occupied as commander of a simulated shuttle mission. (Did I mention that I was the youngest commander for a shuttle mission during the week I attended Space Camp?) While you laugh at my geekiness, here’s the pic:
Space Camp Shuttle Simulator - 1987
Space travel is a dream that has faded in my adult years, but never entirely disappeared. A few years ago, my heart ached as I watched television coverage of Columbia’s demise. Most recently, I’ve watched the last missions of the space shuttle program with a bit of sadness.
Earlier today, I think my son recognized my nostalgic look-back for what it was. He said, “Dad, maybe you and I can fly into space someday.”
“Maybe son, maybe,” I said with a smile as I envisioned the possibility of commercial space travel. Could it be a dream delayed?
You never know.
Maybe grandfather son and grandson.
And leave the women behind to worry?
All things are possible!