Starlight, starbright: Wishes and Dreams

Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight...when I first heard those words at a Girl Scout singalong, I was a junior, maybe a cadet. Anyway, old enough to put no stock in such nonsense. In my tween-aged wisdom (I laugh writing that now) I was far too worldly (snort) to believe in such things. But as an adult, I might just think those stars were watching out for me. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Considering our relationship now, it's crazy to me that my dad was there at the start of my obsession with space. It started out at parent-child space camp in Huntsville, Alabama. And, perhaps more importantly, my dreams mostly lived in Huntsville for so many years.
I was the one at home, making sure chores got done, homework was finished, dinner was made, and, to my chagrin, was usually asking my sister for help with my math homework. I'm sure she's still laughing about that. She'll probably rip the page out of this book and frame it. Not that I resented my mother at all. She was supporting two tween/teen girls as a single parent, with no help from my father, more often than not.
By high school, we had the routine down. I was applying for colleges, dreaming my big dreams, when one day, I came home inconsolable, convinced college wasn't for me. That particular day, my guidance counselor, upon hearing of my dream to one day work for NASA, had told me to "be realistic." That crushed me. But if I'd listened to her, this would be an awfully short book. I won't name her here-as a child, that was my greatest wish; but as an adult, though I've fought the urge to send an email from my work address, asking her how realistic my dream is now?-I recognize how very little impact that would have, and how it would greatly diminish my achievement to nothing more than a spiteful success story. And my story has very little to do with her, in the end.

To be continued