She woke up, late as usual. It’s a good thing she had packed some things the night before. She was young, but her face betrayed her. She loved the sun and the sun loved her back. There isn’t enough make up to fill those cracks. It would be close. Her friend would be there soon. It was unlikely that she would make it. As she brushed her hair, she called to change the flight. Thank God for speaker phone. She couldn’t get through. She might as well hustle.
She just created a new Olympic event, the 200 yard, 4 inch heeled airport dash. This wasn’t her first time running this event and she was getting faster. She didn’t check her luggage. She was confident she could convince any baggage boy that got in her way. Not one baggage boy got in her way. Last call for Flight MH370 to Beijing. She made it with a second to spare.
On March 3rd, Malaysia Airlines jetliner disappeared over the waters just south of Vietnam. The plane simply disappeared from radar. This isn’t unheard of. The rights to the seas and airspace in this region are highly contested. But this wasn’t just a blip. Flight MH370 never reappeared on radar and still has not been found. Anytime something like this happens, we can’t help to think of the worst. The preliminary evidence points to a disintegration of the plane at 35,000 feet.
It’s easy for us, so far removed from this tragedy, to disconnect. We don’t know the names, the faces or the voices of the 239 human beings that are feared gone. 239 families and friends have a singular focus right now. They are fearful that the worst has happened. They are hopeful that the worst hasn’t happened. They patiently wait for any information. What a horrible feeling. You want to know, but you don’t want to know.
If the worst is true, and I hope it isn’t, I wonder how they spent their last days. It makes me feel better to believe that their last days were hopeful, happy and satisfying. I want to believe that, but I know it is unlikely. If those 239 lives were anything like ours, they spent those last days and hours in the grind. It is likely that they were finishing that assignment or working on that project. It is likely that they were disciplining their kids or arguing with their spouse. It is likely that they were worried about paying the bills or not paying the bills.
This devastating tragedy made me wonder about my last 24 hours. When will it come? Will I be ready? Will I spend most of it running through the airport chasing my destiny? If this is my last 24 hours, would I be hopeful, happy and satisfied?
We can never predict when our last 24 hours will be. We will never know when we’ll be chasing destiny through the airport. We can’t predict what we can’t predict. However, we do control what we do. We have to approach everyday like it is our last 24 hours. Everyday should be filled with hope, happiness and satisfaction. We can’t get caught up in the grind. We can’t control when we leave this world, but we can control what we do before we go.
Slightly different!
doc mu