Final Wish

Thankfully, the skilled pilot of US Airways Flight 1549 was able to maneuver the passenger jet to a "safe" landing in New York's Hudson River yesterday. All survived!

My brother is a pilot for US Airways. One of his regular routes is between New York and South Carolina. My dad called me yesterday afternoon to assure me that my brother was not piloting this flight, and that he was safe.

Took me back to 9-11. The route of one of the doomed flights was one my brother flew regularly. But not that day. All telephone lines were jammed for a while that morning, but I finally got to speak to him. He was sitting in the cockpit of his plane, grounded by the horrific hijackings, awaiting approval to return to the gate. But he was alive.

Indeed, my brother has chosen a high-risk career. Sometimes he jokes that being a commercial pilot is akin to being a bus driver. His day-to-day job doesn't often excite him anymore. But down under, he loves flying. All pilots I've ever met fly because they love it. Just as one doesn't become a doctor or lawyer by accident, one doesn't just "happen into" a career as a pilot. No, one becomes a pilot out of desire -- a need to fly.

My brother has lost friends, fellow pilots, to the heavens. It has crossed the minds of every one of us in the family that we may someday lose him to the heavens.

We hope we don't, at least not anytime soon. At the age of 33, he's got too much living ahead of him.

But as much as we loathe talking about it, the simple fact is that we're all going to die someday. If, when my brother's time comes, he happens to be doing something he loves, I will happily wear a smile for him. Contrary to how this might sound, I do not mean it to be cold-hearted. I will mourn him, as I will mourn anyone who is dear to me who passes.

But for that last earthly experience to be one that brings him joy, one that puts a smile on his face -- that's exactly what I wish not just for him, but for all of us.