Space for Family
Why do I think it’s important to go to space? Pandemics, for starters. Mariah accused me of thinking I was God, for feeling responsible for the eternal survival of the human race. She’s sick of me talking about space, and isn’t bothered by the idea of humans dying out when Earth does, or sooner. “I think we should leave shit alone,” she says.
I asked,”Even if there’s no other life in the universe?”
“I guess I’m a bit of a nihilist,” she said.
I’ve been having second thoughts myself. The more I learn about astronauts, the less I want to be one in the traditional sense. The death rate of astronauts is higher than most lines of work, but what really bothers me is that the divorce rate is too. Going to space shouldn’t mean having to only care about space.
I love watching our son explore the house, including our dog’s paws and ears. Our dog, who we affectionately call our fur-born child, has adapted to the new hierarchy with our first-born child. Our dog explores our son’s face and feet with his tongue. Our son started saying words yesterday. “Mama,” then, “Bird,” according to Mariah. Then, “Hi,” with a silent H, accompanied with a wave like he’s balancing a glass of water on the palm of his hand. “Dada,” is a little less distinct. It’s more like “Daa daa daa daa.” He’s also learning to play the kazoo. If humans are to settle places beyond Earth, then I think we will have to bring our appreciation for family with us. Also, that is why I think we should keep this humanity thing going as long as we can, even if it means making new homes among distant stars.
I’m not God, but heaven for me is the idea that there will still be loving, joking, playing people (and dogs), long after I’m gone, and long after the Earth and Sun are gone.
So, I am still applying to be a NASA astronaut, but I think I have my priorities straight about it.