Europa

March 7, 2048

I have accepted the mission to discover life on Europa.

The mission will take place over eleven and a half years. The first six years would include the spaceship reaching Jupiter and approaching the appropriate angle and speed to land on Europa. From there there will be a year and a half to conduct our mission to discover life beneath the icy crust of the moon in three separate drill locations. The final four years are the years the rocket will take to return to Earth. The return trip will be shorter because the spaceship will use the powerful gravity of Jupiter to slingshot back towards Earth.

On the bright side for me and the rest of the crew the mission will only feel like a bit over eleven years. Once the ship has locked in a clear route towards its destination new cryogenic sleep technology would allow us to sleep for the majority of the trip. Eleven years from now I would have a biological age of just thirty-five. Considering the fact, I'm thirty-two now, that part is pretty remarkable.

On the other hand, while I could save years of my life span during my space travel, everyone on Earth would continue to live out their everyday lives. By the time I returned home from the mission, if I came home that is, my son would be an eighteen-year-old graduating high school. My father would be turning sixty-seven.

Not only would they be a whole eleven years older, but I would not be able to keep regular contact with them. While there is a significant delay between Earth to Jupiter communication, messages can be sent from Jupiter to Earth or vice versa within the period of an hour. This was pretty manageable, although it made calls impossible. The cryogenic sleep however meant I would not be able to receive those messages for years. I would go down for the long nap one day and the next thing I'd see is my son as a teenager.

It would be one thing if he was in college. Leaving him at that age would be tough, but I wouldn't be missing his formative years. Sure, it would be surreal to talk to him once again after ten years, but he would look somewhat the same. Maybe, I'd even miss the birth of my first grandchild. At least then, however, I would be leaving an adult who was ready to start their own life and family.

Leaving a child, on the other hand, felt wrong. Not felt wrong, it was wrong. For years I had wished my mother never left us. Her mission to Mars would have only been three years long. Sure I was only four years old when she left, but I would have only been seven when she came home. I barely remember anything when I was seven. All I do remember is how Dad would wake up every morning and stand right by Mom's picture on the mantle as he sipped his coffee. I've been thinking so much about how this will affect Diego that I've barely had time to think of how it will affect Dad.

Not only am I a terrible mother, but I'm a terrible daughter as well.

Sitting at the dinner table this evening I wanted to tell Diego about my mission, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Today would not have been the right time to do it anyway. I need to tell Dad first. He is the only person I can trust to watch Diego while I'm gone.

I already know he will hate me for leaving, but he won't hesitate to care for his Grandson. That's the type of father he is.