I sort of think of them as my godparents, all of those people who built me. The researchers at Ames, the technicians at Cape Kennedy, those women in the factory.
All that time, all those threads, weaving through something that must have been far too confusing to enjoy.
I think that’s love.
I know that’s love.
They didn’t know what I’d be or who I’d be, but they loved me.
