When I was three years old, I wanted to be an astronaut. Mostly because my older sister Gail wanted to be one, I think. But, still. Never mind that girls weren’t allowed to be astronauts back then. Obstacles, even seemingly insurmountable ones, never stopped anyone from dreaming — especially at age three. My father, enlightened soul that he is, even bought my sister and me astronaut outfits (plastic astronaut helmets that went on top of fuzzy sleeper pajama/space suits) as encouragement. The outfits were, by far, our favorite Christmas presents that year.
Time passed, and life moved on. I got more interested in drama, arts and writing, and the dream of space travel faded. And yet, my fascination with space endured. I still remember when my Uncle Ned brought a telescope on a family camping trip and showed me the Andromeda Galaxy — a destination that would require light years and some unknown future technology to reach.
