It's really weird to watch
The Invasion and see footage from the Space Shuttle Columbia disaster. The morning that it actually happened, I was on my way to my partner's mom's funeral in Oklahoma, so exhausted that I had terrible sleep dep hallucinations the night before in the car. Driving for what would be the last time.
That was a really rough time for me, and it went completely downhill from there. These days I don't think about that period of my life much, except maybe as fodder for a novel. But seeing the debris burn up onscreen really brought it all back.
That ended up being the last time I saw my own mother, even though she lived for several more years.
I'm glad disappointment and shame come in such rare, small doses these days.