Right Place - Right Time

Five a.m. I drag myself onto the shuttle bus in the self park lot at the San Diego Airport.  Anyone who knows me knows I'm not a morning person.  They will tell you that it usually takes me a good hour or two after at that time of day to wake up enough to be able to carry on a conversation beyond one or two words. 

This morning was no different.  I was headed back east on a business trip and my flight was leaving at 6:30 a.m.  It took a while for the shuttle to swing by to get me so I was cold, crabby and complaining.  All I wanted to do was board the plane and go back to sleep. 

When the shuttle finally came, I got on, said hello, and quickly took my seat.  I was the only one on board and the driver was clearly used to functioning before sunrise.  He began making small talk with me.  I didn't want to talk, but I also did not want to be rude, so I engaged him in conversation. 

When I asked him how he was doing he said, "Tired."  "Oh!" I said, "Did you just start work?  "No," he said, "I have been working all night."  I said, 'Well at least you get to sleep during the day."  He chuckled and said, "Actually, I get off work here at 8 and then I go to my other job from 9-5:00."   Realizing that only a few things would motivate someone to work that hard, I asked him, "Do you have a family?"  "Yes," he said, "That's why I work this way."  "I have a three year old son named Evan who is sick." "My wife quit her job to stay home with him to take him to his appointments and work with the therapists come over to the house to work with him"  he said. 

I can't remember the condition his son had, but it was some sort of developmental disease whose name I didn't recognize.

He was beaming as he talked about his son.  I could hear the pride in his voice as he told me that he was only 25 years old and how his father set an example for him about the importance of hard work and family.  He said, "I can't wait for the weekend because I get off at 8:00 Saturday morning, and then I have the rest of the weekend to spend with my family."

As he dropped me off at my terminal, I asked him his name, "J.J." he said.  I tipped him, told him I would be praying for his family but especially for little Evan, and I thanked him. 

I'm sure he probably thought my thank you was a general thank you for getting me to the terminal.  It wasn't.  In fact, my thank you had nothing to do with that. 

I was thanking him for reminding me how much I needed to put things in my life into perspective. 

I thanked him for renewing my faith in good, upright YOUNG men of color. 

I thanked him for helping me see that my "problems" are minor, and I should be grateful.

Finally, I thanked him being the driver on that early morning shuttle that I was complaining so much about.  I needed to be there...in that moment, on that shuttle, with that driver, on that day, at that time. 

You are right where you should be at this moment.  Now it is time to move on to what is next.          -Ralph Marston