On November 1, 2026, Adam Robinson, Helen Sharp, Emma and Charlie Robinson, Rachael Reed, Charmi Fehr and Anita Maria Cetina boarded a chartered jet in Austin, Texas. The group was headed to the Bahamas for a vacation. Most likely, there were feelings of excitement, happiness, anticipation, and joy as they departed.
Emma and Charlie’s parents, Adam and Helen, their nanny, Anita, and two close friends, Rachael and Charmi, were probably talking about the day ahead and the things they wanted to do in the Bahamas. As a busy entrepreneur, Adam may have been reading emails on his phone. Anita may have been attending to the needs of the infants. Everyone was content.
A short while later, these seven people were dead. The jet had crashed, killing the seven passengers and the two pilots.
Jeff Gregory was the pilot. At 56 years old, he was a longtime aviator, husband, and father from the Philadelphia suburbs. The co-pilot was 20-year-old Nathalia Gadelha Filgueiras. She earned her pilot's license in 2023 while a 17-year-old senior at West Boca Raton Community High School in Florida.
This tragic accident illustrates how fragile life is. Within mere seconds, our daily routines, our hopes, our dreams, and our plans can be eradicated. Human existence is inherently delicate, unpredictable, and entirely temporary. The awareness that human existence is unpredictable and finite is known as the fragility of life.
This awareness often strikes suddenly through personal experiences such as the loss of a loved one on a battlefield, a sudden illness, or an unexpected accident. Or, in the case of a chronic or incurable illness, such as Alzheimer’s disease, the anticipation of death is often an overwhelming and lingering distraction to one’s life.
Key Dimensions of Life's Fragility
Biological Limits: The human body relies on a delicate balance of oxygen, water, and stable physical conditions. Any disruption can change everything in minutes.
Unpredictability: Major life changes often occur unexpectedly, dismantling the illusion of total personal control over the future.
The Finite Nature of Time: Recognizing that moments are limited is what gives ordinary experiences - like a sunrise, shared laughter, or quiet conversations - their deep value and beauty.
The Paradox of Awareness: Fear vs. Freedom
Confronting how quickly everything can change typically pulls people in one of two directions:
The Tightening of Fear: Experiencing or witnessing a sudden tragedy - such as the death of a loved one or the November 1 plane crash - can smash our illusion of control. This can cause people to withdraw from life, experience extreme anxiety, or try desperately to micromanage their surroundings.
The Opening of Freedom: Conversely, accepting that "tomorrow is not a guarantee" can act as a radical equalizer. It liberates people from trivial societal pressures - like maintaining a "perfect online image" - and pushes them to live authentically and "seize the day".
Neither of those options is entirely practical.
If Adam and Helen were fearful that the jet taking their family and friends to the Bahamas may crash, they may decide not to take the vacation. That decision deprives them and their family of experiences of joy, happiness, and love. Conversely, as a person with Alzheimer’s, I may decide to take extreme risks, such as skydiving. So what if I die jumping out of a plane? I am going to die from Alzheimer’s anyway.
I believe we should balance experiencing life without fear of our eventual death with making smart decisions about the possible consequences of our actions. Joining friends for dinner without fear that you may be killed in a car crash on the way to or from the restaurant is a wonderful life experience. Drinking alcoholic beverages to excess at dinner and then driving home dramatically increases the risk of your death and that of other innocent people. The proper balanced decision is to either not drive (take an Uber) to dinner or not drink to excess.
The November 1 plane crash was a rare occurrence. Statistically, flying in a chartered jet with experienced pilots is safer than driving from Austin to Miami and taking a boat from Miami to the Bahamas. Adam and Helen were experiencing life even though they were likely aware there was a slim chance the plane might crash.
People with chronic or incurable diseases may be inclined to take greater risks to experience whatever life they have left. We have all heard of people taking a cross-country motorcycle trip, skydiving, or touring the mountains of Hawaii in a helicopter before their disease takes their life.
I am well aware that Alzheimer’s will eventually result in my death. I also know I could be hit by a car while walking on a sidewalk. Obsessing over either death scenario deprives me of experiencing life, love, and joy.
Everyone embraces the fragility of life in a manner they are comfortable with.
This contemporary poem focuses on choosing to engage deeply with life, presence, and courage rather than shying away out of fear:
I will not die an unlived life
I will not live in fear
of falling or catching fire.
I choose to inhabit my days,
to allow my living to open me,
to make me less afraid,
more accessible,
to loosen my heart
until it becomes a wing,
a torch, a promise.
I choose to risk my significance.
to live so that which came to me as seed
goes to the next as blossom
and that which came to me as blossom,
goes on as fruit.
by Dawna Markova
Alzheimer’s may dictate my ultimate diagnosis, but until then, I choose exactly how I inhabit my days. While walking on a sidewalk yesterday, I marveled at the beauty of the trees without fear of being hit by a car.
Greg Rowland’s Alzheimer’s Journey is dedicated to honest reflection and thought-provoking opinions. While we build this publication into a self-sustaining platform through donations, you can support our sustainability plan via our GoFundMe. Reading, subscribing, and sharing this work with others is equally appreciated. Thank you for walking this road with us.
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Thank you, Sharon.
Beautiful Greg, and I second your sentiment.