On his feelings and focus
I wouldn’t say I’m excited yet. That might sound surprising, but I have so much ahead of me. I feel as if that launch pad is on top of Mount Everest, and right now I’m halfway up. If you ask a climber who’s halfway up Everest if he’s excited, he might tell you that “excited” is not the right word. He’s probably focused, probably hoping he doesn’t trip or fall off, that he can keep managing his energy. That’s kind of how I feel now.
We have so many exams to pass, so many certifications. You’re always on the edge of your seat trying to perform well. At the end of the day, this is a technical job, and you have to perform operations correctly. I’m excited about the rocket launch itself, but I’d be a fool to ignore the fact that it’s dangerous. The best way to mitigate that, though, is to train, to understand the systems and the emergency responses the best one can.
On leaving loved ones behind
If I have one anxiety, it’s that thought: leaving my family, my friends and the Earth. I ask myself, how am I going to cope with that? That is a great unknown that you can’t really train for. My wife and I are spending a lot of time figuring out how best to maintain a semblance of normalcy for our kids throughout training and the mission. That requires a very strong relationship, good teamwork and creative solutions to make it all work. The exercise of balancing hugely demanding mission requirements with the responsibilities of being a husband and a father is probably what I’m finding to be the biggest challenge.
My friends reassure me that kids are very adaptable. They tell me my kids, who are six, four and one, will find it surprising and odd when I’m in space, but as soon as they see video of me doing a couple of flips that will simply become their reality! The magic of children, right? They’ve already grasped the idea that I’m going to this house in the sky. Of course, when I’m up there I’ll be busy and focused, sometimes on doing dangerous things, and it will be important for my peace of mind to know they’re okay.
On what he’s taking with him
I just wrapped up my suitcase, because it doesn’t go with us on the Soyuz, but on a cargo spacecraft that’s launched a couple of months ahead of us. You can’t bring much, so deciding what to bring is an interesting exercise. I’ve packed a mix of symbolic items to remind me of my world on Earth and that I want to take to space and bring back for people as mementos. I’m a history buff and an old-fashioned book-reader, so I’m taking some history books, although I expect I’ll spend most of my free time looking out the window. I’ve also packed children’s books by French Canadian authors, ones that we have another copy of on the ground, so I can read to my kids while they’re flipping along. We’re still in the bedtime story phase of our life, and I’ll be able to continue that from orbit.
On talking politics in space
Astronauts don’t have a no-politics rule. On the contrary, we discuss these things openly. We are proud of being one of those sometimes tenuous links that keep the world together. There is lots of tension here on Earth; governments disagree sometimes and bridges are burned, but we are one of the bridges that remain. We see it as a great responsibility to uphold those standards. We try to be a good example of how humans can work together toward a common goal.
The thing that I’m proudest of, as part of human space flight, is that it makes us a bit wiser, more responsible. Just look at the list of countries that contribute to the ISS: the four biggest are the United States, Russia, Germany and Japan. You don’t need to go very far back in history to see that there wasn’t always collaboration between these four. Space allows us to do this; it makes humans rise above the fray, makes us want to work together. That perspective, of our planet seen from far away, is ultimately one of the most important legacies of space flight. It makes it obvious that we’re all in this together.