A Mother's Anguished Torment

"I should have listened to him. I should have listened to him."
Samira Calehr, Amsterdam, Holland

"How would you choose to die? What would happen to my body if I was buried? Would I not feel anything because our souls go back to God?"
Miguel Panduwinata, 11, perished

"Mama, I'm going to miss you. What will happen if the airplane crashes?"

"Don't say that. Everything will be OK."

Everything is not OK, it never will be OK again. Samira Calehr watched as two of her sons walked away from her. They were meant to walk away from her. They were, after all, at the airport and were seeing the two boys off, on a trip to Bali, to visit with their grandmother. It was a trip they had taken often enough, a trip familiar to them, and the pleasure of being in that fabulous natural wonderland was always alluring.

Miguel Panduwinata, left, Mika Panduwinata, Samira Calehr, second from right, and Shaka Panduwinata, right, pose for a photo

Middle brother, sixteen year old Mika, was meant to accompany his two brothers. There hadn't been enough seats available on the flight leaving Amsterdam on July 17. So Mika Panduwinata would travel to Bali the following day and there catch up with his brothers, to spend quality time with their grandmother, enjoying the beaches in Bali.

Samira Calehr, as she kissed her sons good-bye, and watched their backs slowly receding, was startled to see little Miguel run back to her for another hug. 'What was this all about?' she wondered. She did, in her heart, know what it was all about. Her youngest child had been behaving uncharacteristically concerned about the trip.

Where he should have been excited at the prospect, he was instead moodily concerned.

"I will take care of him", his older brother reassured their mother. "He's my baby." And then they walked off, while Miguel turned again and again to look back at his mother. She will no doubt always be haunted by the memory of his sad eyes regarding her before they both finally vanished from view. And then Flight 17 took off from Schiphol Airport for its 11-hour, 45-minute flight at 12:15.

On Wednesday night, the evening before the flight, Miguel was so troubled, so needed his mother to hug him and stay with him, she did hold him and stay with him. She slept with him that night, her presence reassuring her little boy. They had been well packed and prepared the night before. And when morning came Samira and her friend Aan took the boys to the train headed for the airport.

Shaka, 19, with his first year of college completed studying textile engineering, promised he would keep an eye on Miguel. As Samira looked after the boys' luggage at the airport check-in, Shaka suddenly remembered he hadn't packed his socks. So his it was his mother's turn to reassure him, she would buy some new socks for him and when Mika left the following day, they would be in his luggage.

And that's just where she was, shopping for socks for Shaka two hours later. When her cellphone rang, it was Aan on the line. "Where are you?" His voice was loud and panicked: "The plane crashed!", he informed her, as her world crumbled around her. Now, she recalls Miguel's fear and sadness. She believes he had a premonition.

A pro-Russian separatist looks at wreckage from the nose section of a Malaysia Airlines Boeing 777 plane which was downed near the village of Rozsypne -AP