Life Spots

In 2014, I was diagnosed with a traumatic brain injury, with scans showing damage that, over time and through new techniques, revealed hopeful signs of recovery—flickers of life where once there was none. Though I’m no physician, change is still change, and the resilience I’ve shown through hospitalizations and mental challenges might mean something more, something worth sharing. I hope my journey proves useful to others—though I ask not to be wholly bound to science while I’m still learning how to live. From a kid in Queens to someone nearly defying gravity, I’ve grown, and while many have witnessed what I’m capable of, I now send out silent signals—thoughts and energy—hoping they find their way. No worries, my loved one. No worries, Family. Meanwhile, gifts have arrived from a mysterious circle—coded, familiar, and thoughtful—recalling days when I volunteered at space symposiums and supported peers quietly. My life feels full-circle now, reaching back to that 2008–09 space commercial and my early days at the first base, where I was a steady presence during the transition to space operations. Even the instructions I once wrote now guide others. Though I’m not the sender, if these gifts bear my name, they come from the same heart. I don’t claim the credit—but the signature, like an old friend, is unmistakably yours.