The day my mother died I was calm. She had been ill for a long time and we were so blessed that she passed before she really started suffering. It would have been so hard to watch her be in pain and be powerless to help her. So overall, I felt like I was doing okay.

I was asked by the funeral home to write up whatever I wanted her obituary to say. I wanted to say so much—I wanted the world to know that she mattered, she was loved, and she would be missed. I sat at the computer with fingers poised above the keyboard and wham! What is is this? I can’t breath, I am going to black out, I am terrified because I know I am dying.

_“Panic attack? I don’t think so. I am 40 years old and have never had anything like this happen before.” _ The doctor smiled and welcomed me to world of emotions that have their own way of letting themselves be heard.

She told me that often they get worse before they get better and that I need to remember to just breath through it – it will pass.