English version: Stella

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Stella

I wrote a blog about fear before. About unfounded fears, fears that control your life. I've never written about the fear of death. It might be an intense, emotional and sensitive issue. But in the end it will be an issue which will affect us all. Maybe it already did, maybe it did so multiple times and very near too. Death is a part of life we can't escape from.

I've seen many people blow out their last breath. I've spoken to people with near death experiences, they survived due to quick medical actions. People I cared for in the hospital, but also my grandfather and father had those experiences. All stories have similarities containing words like peace, serenity, a warm feeling, 'being ok with it' and "the tunnel of light".

Dad and I spoke a few times about it, about dying and death. It happened to him when I was only nine, he almost bled to death after a simple surgical procedure. He told me it felt like he was ok with it, that it wasn't unpleasant at all. Unfortunately I couldn't ask him again on October 29th 2015. That time he didn't survive.

My daughter Fay was only three years old when this happened. My father and her were very close. Dad never expected to be a grandfather and he gave her all his love for the short time being.

In the week before he passed away my daughter came up with a doll. She never played with it before, it was just sitting there in a corner. But one day, the week before dad died she dragged that doll around. I asked her if the doll had a name. "Stella" she said very convinced.

Stella. What a name to come up with for a three year old. We didn't know any friends or kids at daycare with that name. We didn't pay further attention to it, but from that day on Stella had to go everywhere with Fay. She even took the doll to bed.

My father called me on Wednesday October 28th. He was excited to go home, to swap a Turkish hospitalbed for a Dutch one. "See you tomorrow Roel. "See you tomorrow dad, I love you". "I love you too". It were our last words.

Dad came home the next day with a medical flight from Izmir in Turkey. During landing in Münster all turned for the worse. The doctor and nurse on the flight tried everything to save his life. But my dad's time had come. What followed was an emotional rollercoaster. A part of the airport was treated as a crime scene and closed off, I had to fight to get dad home soon without further investigations or an autopsy on his body.

I had questions about his last flight. If dad said anything, if he suffered, questions like that. I got an emailaddress of the nurse on the flight. I asked my questions hoping to get any answers.

And answers I got. From Stella, an Austrian nurse on board of the flight. The woman who took care of my father and tried to save his life was named Stella. Fay's doll was named Stella too. A name she gave that doll a week before dad died.

Cause of this event and all the conversations and other events that are seared in my brain I do not fear death. Death is a part of life. We should celebrate life cause it's a gift. Death is part of it if we want it or not.

I don't fear death cause life is a beautiful thing. And if death is a part of that, why would it be something horrible?