Over these past few months, I’ve found myself reflecting back on the wonder of the Artemis II mission which, back in April, carried four astronauts into a lunar orbit. One of these astronauts was Reid Wiseman, the mission commander – someone who has experienced something as unique as a trip to the moon and something as universal as grief.
Artemis II NASA astronauts (left to right) Reid Wiseman, Victor Glover, and Christina Koch, and CSA (Canadian Space Agency) astronaut Jeremy Hansen. Image Credit: NASA/Frank Michaux
Commander Wiseman’s wife, Carroll, died in May 2020 at age 46. He carried his grief and the memory of her all the way to the moon and back. As Wiseman circled the moon in Artemis II, his crew made a space for that grief. Mission specialist Jeremy Hansen identified an unmapped crater, calling it “a bright spot on the moon, and we would like to call it Carroll.”
Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our dear ones shines down to let us know they are with us.
– Inuit Proverb
The crew of the Artemis II did not leave their grief behind when they left earth. Instead, they found a way to carry the memory of Carroll Wiseman and their love for her with them – an opportunity for remembrance. In our own lives we can find those opportunities for remembrance as well. Maybe our own loved ones look back at us from the face of the moon, or perhaps we keep them a little closer to home: a memory box, an altar, a memorial garden. Maybe it’s a favorite food or a song you play in their memory, a photo album or a favorite place to visit.
In whatever way we choose to honor their memory, we carry it with us always – all the way to the moon and into the future.
