I’ve been sitting here, scrolling through reports about the American Airlines flight from Wichita, Kansas, to Washington, D.C., that collided with a military jet, and I just can’t shake the heaviness in my chest.
Days like this are so hard when you’re an empath. Even though I didn’t personally know anyone on that flight, I feel deeply for all the lives lost, the families left grieving, and the sheer devastation of it all.
I came across an interview with a husband who had been waiting for his wife to land. Just twenty minutes before the crash, she had texted him, saying they were preparing to land soon.
And then, in a split second, she was gone. It’s heartbreaking to think about how everything can change in an instant—one moment, you’re looking forward to seeing your loved one, and the next, your world is shattered.
The Unimaginable Grief
I can’t even begin to imagine the nightmares these families are living right now.
Some were likely waiting at the airport, watching the clock, anticipating hugs and happy reunions.
Others may have been back home, getting dinner ready, expecting a call that never came.
And now, instead of planning for their futures, they’re planning funerals.
And that’s what hits me the hardest.
It’s January, almost February 2025. Many of these passengers probably had plans, goals, and dreams for the year ahead. Maybe they had vacations booked, birthdays coming up, or just a regular, quiet weekend with family.
And in a single, unforeseen moment, those plans disappeared.
A Sobering Reminder
I’ve been flying since I was six years old. My dad worked for Delta, so airports and airplanes have always been a normal part of my life.
And I think, like many of us, I’ve taken it for granted—the ease of taking off, landing, and getting from one place to another safely.
This tragedy is a sobering reminder that nothing in life is promised. We board planes assuming we’ll reach our destination. We go to sleep assuming we’ll wake up. We say “see you later” assuming there will be a later. But what if there isn’t?
It makes the small stuff feel so insignificant.
đź’”Imagine having an argument with your spouse before leaving, only to never have the chance to apologize.
đź’”Imagine being in a fight with a parent, assuming you have time to make things right, only for that time to be stolen.
I never want to live with that kind of regret. This has reminded me to love my family a little harder, let go of the petty frustrations, and express gratitude for every single moment we often overlook.
Holding Space for the Families
I’ll reserve my thoughts on how this happened and whether it could have been prevented—because I know more details will emerge in the coming days.
But my heart aches for every family impacted. I hope they know that across the country, people are mourning with them.
To anyone who lost someone in this tragedy: My deepest condolences. My prayers are with you. I hope that in the midst of this unimaginable grief, you find even the smallest sliver of comfort in knowing that your loved ones are being held in the hearts of so many.
And to the rest of us—may this serve as a reminder to hold our loved ones closer, never take a moment for granted, and always, always say “I love you” when we have the chance.
Unapologetically, Dorothy! đź’•
