Stellae

A lot can happen in the span of a few minutes.

One could get all kinds of life-changing information.

A woman finding out she’s pregnant.

A man getting a call, telling him his wife passed away in a traffic collision.

A high-schooler receiving an e-mail from their dream college, saying they’ve been accepted.

Other people aren‘t told life-changing information but are rather experiencing something that will change the course of their lives forever.

A man needing one leg amputated after crashing his motorcycle, rendering him unable to walk.

A little boy being kidnapped, never to be found again.

A woman getting into an accident because of a reckless driver.

I never planned on dying this way. Who plans their death anyway? Everyone assumes they will die of old age and not because something terrible will happen to them. It happens to others, sure, but it won‘t ever happen to them.

But it does happen to them.

Horrid things happen to everyone eventually.

There’s no use in pretending otherwise.

Turning a blind eye won‘t prevent it, but will only serve to make what's coming even more unexpected.

Is this what I get for not looking at the road right in this moment?

It was but a brief glance, nothing out of the ordinary. I only turned up the heat because I kept shivering.

But right at that moment another driver ran a stop sign and crashed into the side of my car.

I didn't feel anything strangely enough.

One would expect to feel excruciating pain when crushed by a car.

Though, I suppose I lost consciousness on impact.

I don't really feel anything, now that I think about it.

I don't feel scared.

I don't feel angry either.

I believe the closest thing I feel to any emotion is sadness.

There was still so much I wanted to do.

I still wanted to visit the Chinese countryside.

I still wanted to go to Paris.

I still wanted to see my daughter graduate college.

Not to mention, I am needed as well.

My family needs me.

My husband needs me. He only has one leg left and the other is not really of any use.

My daughter needs me. Who else is she going to turn to when she has her first date?

My son needs me. He needs to know that his Mommy never gave up on looking for him.

My son.

I still vividly remember the day he disappeared.

It was a sunny day, a nice day, not a day anyone would expect something bad from.

It was the same day my husband lost his leg.

My daughter was in school, so my son and I decided to spend some time at the local playground.

He was merely six years old.

The playground was bustling with people.

A bunch of mothers sat on the benches surrounding the playground, watching over their children and talking to one another about mundane things.

Most of them didn't have a care in the world.

I, too, didn't have a single care in the world.

They woke up, got ready for the day, then woke their children up and got them ready.

I had the exact same daily routine.

While my daughter was old enough to take care of herself already, her brother was still too little.

My daughter was treated equally when she was his age, though.

It felt like her being six was just yesterday.

Time is a funny thing, really.

Sometimes time seems to fly by and other times not a second seems to pass.

Exactly that can be fatal.

Frankly, I don't recall how exactly it happened.

My son ran towards the playground, his sights set on the swing.

I watched him for a moment, before deciding to sit down next to one of the many mothers.

I looked around.

There was hardly an empty spot for me.

Just when I decided to give up on my search, I heard my name being called out.

Turning around, I saw the mother of my son's best friend waving me towards her.

I walked up to her and we chatted for a while.

It was just a few minutes of friendly chatter.

My eyes kept flicking over to where my son played.

But then I couldn't spot him anymore.

Fear gripped me.

Where was my son?

I tried telling myself it's alright, he was probably just behind the slides.

He wasn't though.

I couldn't find him anywhere on the playground, nor could any of the other mothers.

This wasn't happening.

This could not be happening.

I looked away for just a few seconds.

Nothing horrible could ever happen in such a short amount of time, could it?

These things happen to others, but not to me.

Why would they happen to me?

Why would they happen to my son?

My son needs me.

He is merely six years old.

I can't die without knowing where my son is.

I can't die without knowing my daughter manages college-life perfectly fine.

I can't die without knowing my husband will be alright and won’t be plagued by the question of why he survived his accident and I didn’t.

I can't die. But I have to. This isn't a matter of what I want and what I don't want.

This has been decided for me. Perhaps it was fate, maybe karma. Who knows, really?

Perhaps it was God's plan. They do say the ways of the Lord are incomprehensible to man.

I hear something. The sound is far away and muffled.

Have paramedics arrived?

I can't tell how much time might have passed already.

It feels like hours, but it's probably only been mere minutes.

I still believe it might be too late for me.

I don't see anything.

I don't say anything.

I believe my body is being lifted out of the car.

I am uncertain, though. It feels like I'm being moved underwater.

Everything feels weirdly light, yet heavy at the same time.

It feels like there is this pressure on me, pushing me down.

I don't think I'll make it.

Truth be told, I knew that from the moment the other vehicle crashed into my car.

I knew that from the moment I felt weightless and saw nothing but darkness.

It almost feels like I'm in space.

Perhaps that is where we go once we die.

I have heard that before in a documentary my husband and son watched.

Apparently, we are all made of stardust. All of us are an integral part of the universe.

It's endearing, really. All of us are stars, all of us shine bright.

Even after we die, we still shine. Just not among the people we love, but in the night sky.

Where we belong.

Where we hail from.

I feel like someone is close by.

I don't see or hear anything, though.

It almost feels like my son is holding my hand.

That puts me at ease.