Finding it hard to breath

Over the past few days I have found myself having a hard time breathing. I am anxious and preoccupied. I am tearful and reflective. I did not think that these emotions would creep up on me as they have but here I sit with four more day to spend with my son before he leaves on a mission and I am a wreck. I feel as though someone is pulling a part of myself away that is physically painful.
Up to this point I have tried to be very positive. I mean who wouldn't be proud of a 19 year old boy that has just finished his first year of college and has decided to go serve by preaching the gospel? It is such a great thing and I am excited for him and the experiences he will have. But, on the other hand, I do not think that more that 10 days have gone by in the last 19 or so years that I have not been around him. I have taken him for granted I am afraid and now that he is going I am thinking of all the things that I love and appreciate him for. I just can not wrap my brain around the fact of not seeing him for two years!
Jake has always been active, adventurous and emotional. I have told my friends that Jake has not been my easiest child but if I had to pick one of my kids who I could drive across the country with, it would be Jake because we would have interesting conversations, he would want to go to crazy places to eat, he would help make critical decisions and we would just have a lot of fun. When Jake was a little boy he would laugh and laugh and laugh. He would dance as soon as music was turned on, he would run as fast as he could, and he would care about me when I was feeling sick or sad. I learned to love Jake immediately because he had an intensity for life, much like his dad. I also realized that he was very subborn like his mom. He wanted the last word in an argument and he wanted to be the one who was right all the time. As I look back on all the stupid things we argued about I see that I would have been better off to listen more than I preached and to encouraged more than I criticized. I think maybe I would do better with a do over but here I sit thinking that the little boy I know and love is now a man ready to enter a new phase of his life.
I am finding it hard to breathe because the time has gone by so fast. And I'm finding it hard to believe that the love I had for a little two week old baby in the middle of the night, when the spirit whispered to me that he was something special, has only multiplied over the years. He is the boy I dreamed of as a young mother, who would grow up strong and brave and true. He is a joy and gift. He is my son that I love.