It was 1986. The Challenger had exploded the previous week. There we were, Sandy and I, sipping on our favorite beverages at our local watering hole and watching television. The local television news was rerunning the Challenger footage for the zillionth time, when Sandy very proudly says to me, "You know, space travel is still safer than other kinds of travel. Someday, I'd really like to go into space." "Okay," I said, "Do you really think that will happen in our lifetime?" "Sure it will," Sandy said confidently. "It'll be cost prohibitive for us but it'll happen and it'll always be my dream." And so it has.
Fast forward fifteen years, we're in the surgeon's office. Sandy inquires of his doctor, "Will I have any restriction after the surgery?" The surgeon says after the recovery period, you'll be able to do everything you could do before the surgery except go into space. Sandy turned to me. His eyes met mine with amusement and we looked at each other and smiled. The surgeon had no clue that Sandy was a rocket scientist, and that he would eventually go into space.
And so, I am ever so pleased to fulfill a dream of a lifetime. Love endures forever.