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I have a brother who looks up at the heavens.

In the darkness between the stars, he searches for ancient light.

Far beyond light bulbs and LEDs, between constellations, he tries to reach into the past.

There is always something more to see, something more to know, something more to understand.

I think to be an astronomer is to be hopeful.

In December 2019, I visited his laboratory in Berkeley, California.

If I thought scientists and I did entirely opposite things, I was wrong. 

What he does is almost art, searching for beauty and meaning,

coloring wavelengths as he wishes and bringing the universe to life.

Maybe mankind cannot resist being human.

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I have a brother who looks down from heaven.

He always wanted to be a pilot.

What you want isn't always what you get,

and then life can become dark and a future unthinkable.

A person can envision anything, but stars shine for themselves.

When I hope to see him up there, I quickly get discouraged.

Looking up on a clear night I feel awe, but also cold.

Maybe I just feel him the most when it snows and everything is white.

Sometimes I find it difficult to search for beauty and meaning.

Insight, grief, inspiration, they all seem to move in waves,

but maybe it is precisely that - and not the upward trend - that makes us human.