  Yesterday, we went to my mom's to visit. (She's doing well btw. ) My Grandpa came over and told me there was a dresser he wanted to give to the boys and wanted me to help measure it. So I walked down to his place (just a couple of doors down). As I climbed the steps to walk inside I had a terrible panic attack - my heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice and I couldn't breathe. I realized that instant that I hadn't been inside their trailer since two weeks before Grandma died in January 2000. It was a horrid feeling, of fear and dread, and terror, and anxiety, and sadness, and remorse, etc., etc. I didn't feel my Grandma's spirit there - although I do feel it a lot at home and with my mom and Petunia. 
