The memorial service begins with a local choir, “Le chœur de la Blanche” from Seyne-les-Alpes, which sings melodiously in different languages.
“What time is it now?” I whispered to my husband as I´m not wearing a watch.
Exactly at this time Jens sat unsuspectingly on the plane. He was looking forward to his bed because he was tired. He texted that to Melanie immediately before takeoff.
I fight back the lump in my throat.
Carsten Spohr, Chairman of the Executive Board of Deutsche Lufthansa AG, gives a speech. This is not pleasant for me.
Again and again I look at the time. The last ten minutes of his life have begun. Was he afraid? Did he scream? Thoughts are whirling through my head. I should have been with him!!!
A sad adagio (from the Concierto de Aranjuez by Joaquin Rodrigo) resonates.
Soon our son will die. WHY!?
Our loved ones have one more minute to live. Just one more minute!
People cry and the music falls silent. We rise from our seats. Some mourners can no longer stand it and rush out of the tent.
Silence. The booming sound of a gong announces the time of impact. I tremble like a leaf. Jens dies, our dear child dies! He is dead. From one second to the next the passengers and crew cruelly lost their precious lives. Only one person wanted this mass death … I flinch.
We stand. The sound of weeping flows from all parts of the room into a single flood of tears.
The names of the victims are read: “… Jens Voss …”, only a little later that of his Japanese colleague …
The sobbing is drowned out by Johann Sebastian Bach’s Air.
Céline Burnouf, Chief of the Brigade of the French Gendarmerie, takes the floor. She talks about her feelings when she met the first family members and took DNA samples. “A stepfather gave me a cuddly toy and some headphones. The moment was extremely emotional and I had trouble holding back my tears. I am a gendarme, but also the mother of a little daughter.” She ends with the sentences: “Today – one year after the accident – the visible traces of the crash have been removed and the environmental work at the crash site has been completed. However, the emotions have not faded in any way. It is still difficult for us colleagues to talk to each other about our feelings. We too will never be able to forget the events. We will always think of you and keep you in our hearts.”
Gratitude resonates in the long applause which follows.
Largo by Georg Friedrich Handel segues into the next speech. A Spanish woman talks about her mother: “Mama, I think I will never find the words to express what I feel, now that I have to say goodbye to you. I had always believed that this would only happen if I had learned everything from you, if you had no more advice for me or if we could not talk about anything anymore …”.
Beate, who lost her sister and brother-in-law, closes with a poem.
We take the lyrics of “Somewhere over the rainbow” into our hands. However, I can’t sing along because my throat is tight with grief.
Representatives of different religions say their closing words.
The windowfront ahead of us is rolled up by the assistants, revealing a view of the monument and alpine horns. One of the family members from NRW (Roruper Alpine Horn Ensemble Dülmen) plays one of them.
After the official laying of the wreath we join the others to lay a white rose for Jens. I raise my head and notice a woman looking at me. She has long reddish hair and is helping to distribute the roses. I look back at her. A few seconds later she approaches and gives both of us a second rose, saying, “For your wonderful son”. We gratefully accept it. Warmth permeates me. We lay the flowers, lingering to look at the white mountain of roses in front of the monument.
Jens is dead.
“How does she actually know that we lost our son?” my husband asks suddenly.
I start to think. We don´t know.
(To be continued)
© Brigitte Voß / Translation: Ellen Rosenbaum
A TEAR IN MY SOUL 