If You Need A Hug...

I had a moment that choked me up in the most beautiful way. It happened while watching the live feed from the Artemis crew, who I’ve been low-key obsessed with for the last month or so.

There was a moment yesterday, up there, far beyond us, that felt so gorgeously human… it’s a wonder that it happened farther from Earth than any human in history has ever gone.

Four astronauts. Floating in their spaceship. And one of them, the Canadian Jeremy Hansen, starts talking quietly to the camera about craters on the moon. About how the crew had spent the morning studying them through the windows with their naked eyes and a long lens. And how they’d decided to suggest some names. The first one, he says, they want to call “Integrity,” after their spaceship.

(WATCH THIS)

And then he shares that the crater they want to name next is in a really specific spot, a bright spot. And that they chose it deliberately so that it would be visible from Earth. He says that years ago, when they started their journey together, their close-knit astronaut family lost someone. “Her name was Carroll. The spouse of Reid. The mother of Katey and Ellie.” His voice cracks as he speaks.

And then he spells it for the Mission Control folks back on Earth: C-A-R-R-O-L-L.

The whole time, the commander of the mission, Reid Wiseman, husband of Carroll, is right beside him. Floating in air. The man who just led the first crew around the moon in over fifty years is wiping away tears. Hearing the name of his beloved spelled out in space. And when Jeremy the Canadian finishes, Commander Reid places his hand on his comrade’s shoulder, floats over to him and they embrace in the air.

Then, fellow astronauts Victor Glover and Christina Koch, also both in tears, drift in. And they all just… float there. Together. Holding on to each other. Hugging each other as a group.

It was one of the most thrilling moments of togetherness I’ve seen in a while.

Their hug was not a quick, earthbound hug. The kind we give when we’re rushing somewhere. The quick squeeze or tap on the back that we all have received or given.

This hug wasn’t that. It was lingering. The kind of hug you give when nothing is pulling you away… so you stay in it. These people wrapped their arms slowly around each other in midair. They embraced as true comrades. As family. Floating in space.

I found it beyond moving to watch a group of different kinds of people holding space for one person’s heartache, and letting it belong to all of them. It was soft and tender. And healing.

I didn’t realize how much I needed to see that. Especially after these last few days. Because down here, so much feels loud and cruel and sharp. The so-called leader of our nation revels in violent, vile and viciously murderous threats on civilians in other lands and profanity-laden, blasphemous, insane Easter Sunday rants that make you feel like… what is the bottom of this cesspool?

And then you look up… and there they are. Floating in space. Together. Gentle. Connected.

It is healing to know that somewhere above all of this, human beings are finding ways to be good to one another. In the far reaches of the universe.

It seems clear that humanity doesn’t disappear when we leave Earth. It might actually get clearer.

When Mission Control answered our astronauts after their request, a woman’s voice from Earth reported back “Integrity… and Carroll Crater. Loud and Clear.”

Amen to that.

Godspeed, Artemis 2 crew.

And thank you.