Yesterday, a wave of panic rushed over me as I stood in the kitchen. Out of no where came a sudden rush of heat. And as my hands shook and my body trembled, memories of my first panic attack resurfaced.

I was 27 years old, in the UK attending my very first funeral, saying goodbye to my beloved Granda. I recall sitting in the crowd, feeling suffocated by my emotions. Sweating as my heart raced faster and faster, I couldn’t breathe and it felt like I was going to faint.

I needed air !!!

So I stood up and headed for the door, but as I reached for the handle someone stopped me … it was you

You wrapped your arms around my trembling shoulders. I told you that I desperately wanted to flee but you insisted that I stay.

We stood at the door as the final song played and the curtains were drawn. You held onto me, as my heart felt the loss and my tears began to flow. I was a little angry with you for not letting me go, yet comforted by your love.

Today, we started preparations for your funeral and waves of emotion roll over me, as I feel the heaviness of my grief. The ache in my heart is a constant reminder that you’re missing from us.

How can I get through this without you?

Although I sense your spirit energy and am grateful for the signs. I long to look into your eyes, to hear your voice, to smell the familiar scent of home and to feel the warmth of your loving embrace

I miss your physical presence 💔