After death.
Life after the death of a loved one changes everything.
In the back of the Uber on the way to the airport on Monday morning, I was fighting a rising panic attack. Before a full-blown panic attack, my hands tingle, and a strange hot (but invisible — great) heat creeps up my legs. I feel like they’re covered in spiders. All of this was happening in the ride to the International terminal.
I had the following conversation with myself:
I’m scared and I want to go home. I want to tell the Uber driver to turn around. I hate this and I want to cancel the whole trip.
But why?
Excuse me?
Why are you scared? Why do you feel like you need to cancel the opportunity of a lifetime?
Because I’m going to an unfamiliar country far away from home on my own. Duh!
You’ve done a lot of similar things before and you’ve enjoyed the freedom and liberty to do what you want when you want it — a rare opporunity you give yourself.
Why are you really scared?
And it hit me.
It’s because I lost my Dad when he and Mom went on holiday to the Philippines.
They innocently went “for a few months to travel about, it’s going to be amazing” and I…
