We all are going to die. Death is one of the certain things in life but what is not certain is the when and the where. And thank goodness we don't know or this information would dictate our lives. There is a freedom in not knowing when you will die. It was a freedom I took for granted until I thought I was going to die in a plane crash.
My two kids and I set out this summer to fly from Amsterdam, the Netherlands back home to Myrtle Beach, S.C. for our annual trip to see my family. However when we got to the airport, our flight had been delayed due to a problem with one of the engines.
We sat waiting at the gate and watched the mechanics work diligently on the plane and test out the faulty engine. It was cleared by the engineers and all 400 of us boarded this gigantic plane on our way to Atlanta.
I am usually quite nervous about flying, but not this time. Prior to this flight, I had flown a hundred times and I was actually looking forward to the relaxation. I could read while the kids watched a film or two as they normally did.
And that was exactly what happened, we got into the air, the kids began watching a movie and I settled in with a book. Soon after, our lunch came and the plane was buzzing with the usual commotion.
Then, all of a sudden, a young lady sitting across the aisle from me started to scream, "There is something wrong with the plane!" Two minutes later the captain announced that there was a fire indication in the cargo area and we would be landing in five minutes.
It was like watching myself in a movie. The plane suddenly became very quiet only for the occasional sob.
My heart lurched out of my chest and I seriously could not believe this was happening to me. I immediately looked at my kids sitting on either side. They were watching a movie oblivious to what was going on.
I had a sudden urge to reach out and hug someone. I wanted someone to hold onto especially since I couldn't see what was going on outside of the window; we were in the middle aisle. I could feel the plane dropping a little faster than normal and my ears were popping.
I looked around at the other passengers: Strangers were holding onto one another while others kept a calm face, like it was just any other landing.
But we didn't know anything; we only knew we were making an emergency landing. To be honest, I would've preferred not knowing anything at all. My stomach was in knots and I couldn't breathe. I listened to the lady in front of me soothe her seat mate. I suddenly reached out and grabbed her through the seats. I just needed her comfort, I was alone. I never felt so alone in my life. Sure I had my two kids beside me, but I wasn't about to share my fear with them. If their short lives were to end I wanted them to be happy watching a funny movie, not to experience the terror I felt.
In those minutes, I thought about two things: I first thought about how stupid I had been in my life worrying about superficial things. My second thought was how I never had a chance to really follow my dreams. I know it sounds selfish that I wasn't thinking about the wonderful things in my life, like my two sweet kids sitting next to me. Looking back, I think it was too painful to think about them. They had their entire lives to live and in a few minutes it could have ended for them. The thought of it even now makes me cry.
I didn't think about anyone in particular, I just wanted human contact. I didn't make any promises to myself if I survived. I was just thinking about if it would hurt. So, I frantically dumped our food trays into a plastic bag and put up our tray tables quickly, desperate to increase our chances of survival.
I wanted to jump up. I didn't want to sit there strapped in a seat belt waiting for my death. I wanted to do something and I couldn't. I had no control and I felt like I had lost my freedom of not knowing my fate.
I wasn't able to pray or confess my sins or anything like that. And up until that point, I wasn't afraid of dying and my soul moving onto another place. But the thought of dying in a metal capsule jammed packed with people frightened me and we would all suffer.
And then we landed. It was a rough landing, very fast and heavy. We stopped so abruptly that my daughter hit her head on the seat in front. The fire trucks were waiting when we landed and soon after the pilot came on to say that everything was ok and we were towed to the gate.
People were coming off the plane taking photos, FaceTiming loved ones, crying and hugging.
People were upset. People were analyzing what had happened. I found myself talking to a stranger travellng by himself and he told me about his wife and daughter back home and how much he missed them. We said goodbye with hugs and tears, no longer strangers.
Needless to say, I didn't sleep that night and ended up staying the weekend in Ireland since I refused to get back on the same plane. And when I got on a new plane to the U.S., a tear was shed for every bump and twist our plane took on that six-hour journey. My belly was in knots and all I could think about was that moment. That moment when I thought we were going down. That moment will live with me forever.
