Moon Landing

The day after my 11th birthday, Neil Armstrong landed on the moon. Like many July days, I was at my grandmother's lake house--as was the rest of my family, along with aunts, uncles and cousins. My great grandfather was present to witness the event--his lifespan dated back to before planes flew or cars rolled.

I remember the humid heat of July and the freshness of unending rows of bright red tomatoes lined up on the back porch table. Presents lay scattered about, all mine, and among them, the silver Bulova wristwatch given to me by my grandmother. It was my first watch. I was thrilled to own a watch and I possess it.

I recall my wavy brown hair hanging down my back--straggly and split-ended. Blissfully unaware of genetics, I strived for Hawaiian hair--thick, black and straight. My skin was deeply tanned, the residual of Hawaiian living. And the swimsuit that I wore, every day, accented the tubby awkwardness of morphing from child to preteen. Though at the time, I wouldn't acknowledge, even to myself, that I was growing up. 

Midday, on that July 20th, bodies pressed close around the TV in the lake house living room. That room wasn't used much during the day, as it wasn't air-conditioned. As the solemn newscaster spoke with a gravity befitting the event, through a black and white grainy haze, we witnessed a man descend from the space capsule and step onto the desolate surface of the moon.

In that moment, I knew, without doubt, the moon is not made of green cheese. The astronaut, whose name I was not interested in, lobbed a golf ball across the moonscape. That, and the laughter of the men squeezed tight around the TV, didn't impress my newly eleven-year-old self. I watched for aliens to burst out from hiding, attack and consume the astronaut. That didn't happen--somewhat disappointing as I did not yet realize the precious fleetingness of life, nor the bravery of one risking his Earth--his reality to travel into space and land as alien somewhere humankind had never stepped before.

Today, Neil Armstrong will be buried at sea. Thank you, Astronaut Armstrong, for making my 11th birthday day-after as memorable as the day before.