Georgia on my mind

It’s 1:05 AM in Atlanta, Georgia. I’m at Gate T17 in the Atlanta Intentional Airport. I see a handful of weary travelers like me, stranded by the cancellation of their flights. Nature, in the form of a hurricane, disrupted the normal flow of our lives. A seemingly perfect day went awry just like that for thousands.

Some of my nocturnal airport mates are trying to get some zzz’s before their next flight early in the morning. The remaining few, like me, are digitally engaged with their devices. 

I manage to find a nice leather couch, perfectly flat and clean, to sink my mass into for the night. The terminal is engulfed with soft white light. Smooth jazz is playing in the background.

My mind drifts away to Ray Charles’ classic:

Georgia, Georgia
The whole day through
Just an old, sweet song
Keeps Georgia on my mind

The setting is just right for me to get my mind around this trip.

My Georgia trip was sudden and unplanned. The reason was a funeral; that of my young cousin, J. He was 10 years younger than me. At 52, he left behind his wife, daughter and son.

J’s eternal journey away from his loved ones, including his mother and sister, was even more sudden and unplanned than my plane ride to bid him farewell for the last time. 

In just 3 weeks everything changed for J and his family. Nature, in the form of the Epstein Barr Virus, consumed him from the inside.

J was loved and respected by all as I witnessed at the well-attended funeral. They spoke of his virtues as a loving husband, father, son, brother and friend. He had truly touched many lives in his short earthly sojourn. I enjoyed my occasional interactions with this kind, caring, humble and highly educated and intelligent cousin. But it all ended too suddenly and perhaps at least 20 years too soon.

It was heartbreaking to see his mother witness and suffer the loss of her son. Her prayers to God to take her instead of her son went unanswered, she lamented to me. ​

J’s wife and young children cried over the loss of the bedrock of the family. They were scared by what the future had in store for them without J.

This sombre scene brought back memories of those days when I lost my parents. An involuntary lump in my throat and a tear rolling down my cheek brought back my emotions of the past to life in a snap. In a moment, my past became my present.

For J’s family, at that moment of their loss, their present froze with little promise of a future that resembled their past with J. 

For J, the past, present and future collapsed into eternity, in a moment.

It’s 7:15 AM.  My wait at the Atlanta International Airport is over. I’ve finally taken flight into the skies on my way back to San Francisco after the unexpected cancellation of my flight. 

From high above, I see that the sky over Georgia is beautifully lit up by the  sun on this beautiful day. The hurricane came and went. My life is flowing again.

There’s a deep understanding arising in me. I feel the past, present and future continually collapsing into each other. The linearity of time as I  normally understand time and live by doesn’t make sense anymore. I just feel present. That’s truly all I have and need. It’s  a calming insight to know that I have to just flow with life as it unfolds letting go of the Maya of control.

J’s mother told me that, in his final moments,  J accepted his situation, let go of his past, accepted what was to come and was at peace. He felt present, I think.

I feel J is alright. His soul is moving on, timeless.

I believe J’s loved ones will be alright too. I pray that they overcome their grief and be present.

Georgia, Georgia
The whole day through
Just the present, it’s all I’ve got
Georgia, you’re always on my mind