I wonder how an astronaut feels when they are getting ready to reenter the atmosphere.
I imagine they must be a little bit apprehensive and frightened. Or, do you think the rigors of their training make it just another day at the office?
If nothing else, after weightlessly studying the universe and science within the realm of outer space, if an astronaut isn’t scared about reentering Earth’s atmosphere, it is physically challenging being in outer space and also when they return to planet Earth.
One year ago, I took a hiatus from my Mama Brains blog.
My exit wasn’t marked by a glamourous, fiery cloud of smoke and eruptions of clapping and screams from a few miles away like an astronaut when they leave Earth.
It was more like a feather floating down, separated from the bird that once gave it flight.
My father passed away a year ago.
And, I floated down enveloped in a haze of the harsh reality of mortality.
Then, as each week passed and combined themselves to form months, it became even harder to return. The loss did not get easier. It became different as time edged its way in between, leaving no gaps, for time offers no space or respite.
Every morning, for the last several days before he died, I drove the two and half hours to my parent’s house in Virginia after dropping my kids at school. My husband was out of the country, so after sitting, holding his hand and telling my sleeping father about things which I cannot now remember, I left as quickly as I came and drove the two and half hours back home to pick up my children from school. Pulling up at the end of the car rider line. Just in time. Donning a smile to ask them about their day. Somehow working into the conversation that granddaddy wasn’t doing very well.
One of those days, as I stood to leave and told him I had to go, he pulled me back. He was still strong, despite a decade-long weakening of dementia.
On the last day that I drove to Virginia to sit with him, a dear friend of mine gave me the gift of time. She offered to collect my kids from school, so my visit with him wouldn’t be hastened. It was one of the most generous gifts I have ever received.
And on that day, just as suddenly as I seemed to arrive there at his bedside, despite a full lifetime that seemed to still be there, it swiftly passed by as my father died.
There was no glamorous, fiery cloud to mark his departure from Earth. There was no eruption of shouts from miles away, just a peaceful silence. It happened in an instant, at a speed that surpassed the escape velocity that is needed to exit the Earth’s atmosphere. Beyond 7 miles per second.
A year has since passed.
In the last year, I have been reminded that the longer you leave something, the harder it is to come back. It’s like not going to the gym for a few weeks and then mustering up the bravery to go back. Or, like that friend you haven’t spoken to in a long time. Somehow, the distance between your chats with one another grows vast and it seems herculean to navigate the void to get back to where you were.
It’s like reentering Earth’s atmosphere and fighting all of the inner atmospheric forces that want to destroy you and keep you from coming back.
Over the last year, I knew I would come back to Mama Brains. It was just a matter of gathering up the courage to return. Plus, my father’s guidance, that still echoes clearly in my head, was to never quit.
So, Daddy, I didn’t quit. I just took some time on the bench.
A little rest in the lawn chair under the Summer Rambo apple tree, admiring the garden and watching it grow.
What is it Like for an Astronaut to Return to Earth
Before I embark on a description of what it is like to reenter the Earth’s atmosphere, I want to clear up a common misconception about the cause of weightlessness in outer space.
Often, people speak of the absence of gravity in outer space. In actuality, there is gravity everywhere in space. The amount gravity in a given location depends upon the mass of objects in relation to that location. The real reason we see astronauts floating around inside their space vehicles is because they are traveling at 17,000 miles per hour and are being pulled into weightlessness by the force of orbit around the Earth. In reality, they are in a constant fall to earth. It is the motion of their space vehicle that leaves them suspended within its confines.
So, what does an astronaut feel when they return from space and reenter the Earth’s atmosphere? What are they thinking? Are they terrified?
In my search for the answer, I came across a short video of two astronauts, Commander Reid Wiseman and Captain Butch Wilmore, describing their return to the Earth’s atmosphere.
Through laughter, both astronauts state multiple times that the journey is “pure mayhem,” as they describe the temperature outside their capsule and the speed at which they are traveling.
As they catapult towards Earth at 17,000 miles per hour, the outside of their capsule becomes a fiery ball of plasma because of friction. It reaches 3,000 degrees causing the heat shield to melt, burn and peel. Their overall summation of the “absolutely spectacular” chaotic experience compares it to a series of car crashes, followed by a shocking jolt from the parachute opening at super sonic speed, then being slammed into Earth in the middle of the dessert.
You can view the video here. It is well-worth the two and half minutes of your time to watch because, frankly, they are very funny as they describe the journey! Returning to Earth from outer space isn’t easy! It takes a complete loss of control, lots of training and a substantial amount of trust to make it back.
It also isn’t easy to restart something you stopped. So, whatever you do don’t quit…it is too hard to start again. But if my advice isn’t sage enough – don’t quit, because my Dad said so!
-Melissa
