what i never talked about

April 15, 1912 | 02.00 am.

I felt like I had been searching the whole ship for hours, while I searched B-Deck for a couple minutes – sounds less, but it was much. All the people on deck were hysterical. They were crying for their children, their spouses or themselves and screaming. They were pushing each other around, either back on the ship or directly in the freezing ocean. Some of them landed on rescue boats, the other, unlucky ones ended up drowning in the ocean.

I, on the other hand, remained calm. I needed a clear mind to focus on what I was doing. I was searching Harold, the man I fell in love with within four days. At least I thought I needed a clear mind, deep inside me I knew there was no chance in finding him, as it looks, I was probably going to see him in the afterlife.

I fought my way through the hysterical people to the stern of the ship, hoping he would still be somewhere. But my hoping was for nothing. He was gone, most likely already on a rescue boat with the lucky first-class women and children who got the first and safest ways off the sinking ship. I was just walking by an elderly couple waiting for their seats on the boat when I had to chuckle – how ironic it was, the unsinkable ship was sinking, defeated by an iceberg. The couple looked at me in disbelief and shook their heads. In different circumstances I would have explained what was so funny, but I didn't really have time. The next moment tears started filling my eyes. I leaned against the wall of some room and let the tears fall down my cheeks. I knew this had to be the end. I knew I was going to die. I knew I would never see my brother, my best friend, again. I knew I would never see the love of my life again and I knew I would never see the sun again. It was over with me. I crouched down behind a bench which was still standing and which was supposed to keep me from rolling down the deck into death.

Present

Tears were filling up my son's, my grandchildren's and my eyes. I remembered this moment as if it had been yesterday. The moment I thought I'd die and never have a future. Oh, how wrong I had been. Now, I was sitting here in my wheelchair, 93 years old, widowed for 43 years, mother to four children and grandmother to seven.

My son sobbed. "Are you okay, mum?"

"Yes, dear, I am okay", I said smiling. "Do you want to hear the rest?"

Of course the three of them nodded. I took a deep breath and continued: "Just when I thought I was going to die –"