“Mama, I want to fly to the moon,” she chattered on her graduation day.
“Hush, child,” her mom scolded, pulling an apron over her head.
She dreamed of space travel but women in the ’30s couldn’t break through the glass ceiling, much less the thermosphere.
Space exploration dreams were inked on the pages of her diaries. She studied astronomy between diaper changes and preparing his supper, family recipes whipped together wearing her mother’s old apron.
At age 64, realizing the farthest she’d travelled from her Boise home was Craters of the Moon, she bittersweetly cheered as Sally Ride entered the Challenger.