Rachel had enjoyed a trouble-free childhood, with no inkling of the problems which were to start shortly before her eighteenth birthday. Even as a small child, she was strong-willed, determined and someone who definitely knew her own mind. She loved facing new challenges, and lived every day to the full. She was academically bright, gaining four grade A’s at A level, and playing violin and saxophone to grade eight standard. Rachel was also a competent pianist, but she also loved to party and was fun to be with. Her friends commented on her energy and enthusiasm, and her ability to bring out the best in people. She was kind and caring and a loyal friend. Rachel’s first seizure occurred on a tube train in London. She subsequently went through a whole range of investigative procedures, and there was much debate amongst professionals as to whether her seizures were epileptic in nature. They occurred infrequently, and she never knew beforehand, when one was going to happen. Her consultant told her of possible ways to minimise her risk of attacks, but SUDEP was a word we never heard. After her first year at university, she started to experience seizures in her sleep. At the next Christmas, she had several in close succession, whilst travelling home. She was hospitalised overnight, and put on medication. From that point she was seizure free for the seven and a half months until her death. She was noticeably happier and more relaxed when she came home at Easter and summer, feeling in control of her body once more. Rachel spent a memorable late evening chatting to us on August 11th. She was happy and animated, having met up with friends from school. We had just returned from holiday and enjoyed exchanging news. Little did we know that these were to be her last conversations with us. I found Rachel dead in her bed the next morning. It was just two and a half years since her first seizure. Her funeral service was, as far as possible, a celebration of her life. The church was packed, and many of her friends spoke, two writing and reading poems. A school friend has done a painting in her memory, which hangs in the school music room. A memorial service was held at Leeds University, followed by the planting of an oak sapling in a park there. There is a bench in the churchyard where she is buried, with the words “a life too short, but one which continues to be an inspiration to so many who loved her.” These are all wonderful reminders of a young and vibrant life. Rachel was always determined to carry on with life as normal, and she refused to let her medical condition restrict her in any way. She packed more into her twenty years than many people do in a much longer lifetime. We feel proud and privileged to have been her parents, and she has inspired us to try to move forward positively in the roller coaster of life, whilst not being brave enough to face the real roller coasters she loved so much. We cannot do anything to bring Rachel back, but we can support Epilepsy Bereaved and hope that other young lives might be saved by better information and awareness. To quote the last verse of a poem from Rachel’s funeral service: “You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back Or you can do what she would want: smile, open your eyes, love, and go on.” Diana and Gerard