Today we honor a man whose life was defined by curiosity, knowledge, and a deep desire to understand how the world and the universe worked. He was always tinkering, taking things apart and putting them back together, driven by a need to see beyond the surface and into the “why” of everything.
His greatest passion was the cosmos, especially the Moon. He could talk for hours about space, lunar missions, distant stars, and the mysteries of the universe, sharing knowledge that felt as vast and endless as space itself.
As long as I can remember, he would ask me three questions, little tests that reflected his love for learning and discovery: Who was the first man on the Moon, and what year? What is the deepest part of the ocean? And what was the tallest mountain in the world before Mount Everest was discovered?
The answer, of course, was always Mount Everest; it just hadn’t been discovered yet.
To him, knowledge wasn’t just about answers but about perspective, the understanding that truth exists whether we’ve discovered it or not.
Like gravity, his presence was constant and grounding. As a father, he shaped my world in ways that will never fade.
Now, his final journey follows a trajectory he would have deeply admired, a passage beyond Earth and toward the Moon he loved so much. In scientific truth, nothing is ever lost; it is only transformed. The energy he gave, the curiosity he carried, and the love he shared continue forward, now part of the very universe he spent a lifetime exploring.
No longer just looking up at the Moon, he is forever connected to it, part of its story, part of its orbit, part of the infinite cosmos he so deeply loved.
And somewhere out there, the man who always asked the questions is finally surrounded by the answers.
