Sometimes it is hard to know where to start and even harder to know what to say.
When terror strikes, the personal impact is deepened by how closely we know those caught up in the atrocity and how close to home it happened.
For four and a half years, Westminster was my home away from home. My working routine meant I passed in and out of the Houses of Parliament most days. Other times were spent in and around various Government buildings in Whitehall. I got to know many of the police and civilians who stand guard at the gates and doors. Often, they were the unofficial tour guides, always happy to offer a cheery word or proffer their local knowledge to passers by. To a man and woman, they were friendly, courteous, and a credit to London.
But they were always alert. Always ready. Always there come rain or shine. There for us.
And so the events of last week made an impact on me. I had often walked that street. I had frequently passed that gate. Indeed, I had done so just 24 hours earlier.
I didn’t know PC Keith Palmer. I may well have passed him numerous times as he stood on guard at the Palace of Westminster, part of the reassuring presence. The strong blue line of security.
I have numerous friends who were there that day. They, like me, knew that an act of random, malicious murder by the mad, the bad and the dangerous was always a possibility. But to a person, they, like me, would not be deterred.
I have spoken to some of them over the last few days. Some have chosen their own private counsel to reflect on events. Others have spoken publicly about what they saw and what they felt. They tell of small acts of kindness and compassion. From a packet of ginger snaps shared in Westminster Hall to an arm of comfort to those who needed it. Once again, the worst brought out the best in us.
But all I spoke to shared one thing in spades: each and every one is filled with resolve. They will not bow to terror.
And it is that indomitable spirit which strikes me and gives me hope.
Rightly, we should be in awe of the heroes who ran to help, whilst encouraging others to run to safety. The rapid response of the security services and the doctors, nurses and medics. Their ability, in the eye of a terror storm, to act rationally, keep calm, and keep everyone else safe. The wonderful, amazing, people who’s only concern was the wellbeing of others.
But the sheer bloody mindedness of London also fills me with pride.
London kept calm, and carried on. As we would in Birmingham, or Glasgow, or Manchester, Aberdeen or Edinburgh. In Cardiff and Belfast or Inverness or Bath. This was a day when we all stood as one. All of us. Men and women. Young and old. Of all religions, and none.
The tower of Big Ben rose like a one finger salute to those who would try and break us.
And it stood too in defiance to the petty, ignorant, attention seeking idiots who tried to make political capital from the event. They fill me with disgust. They should be ashamed and shunned.
Some tried to tell US television that Londoners were cowed, scared, disunited. Some poured out their twisted vitriol on social media. Some tried to twist the facts to further their bigoted political views.
What unadulterated poppycock. What dishonesty. What a disgrace. What a bunch of low life. They are scum.
But however odious they are, they have the right to their views. And the right to express them. That is freedom of speech and that is our precious democracy. That is what PC Keith Palmer died defending.
So to them, but most of all to anybody who thinks they can make us cower and force us to give in to their twisted version of truth, I say: think again.
We are not afraid. We will not cower. Every act of evil only strengthens us. You bolster our resolve. You strengthen our unity. For every PC Palmer, there has thousands of colleagues who stand against you. For every one of you, there are millions of us.
Today, we will get on with our lives just like every day. We will go to work. We will take our children to school. We will go out to play, go shopping and go on living our lives. We embody all that you detest. Tolerance, democracy, decency.
So today, I am back in London. I will walk Westminster Bridge and pass the gates of Parliament. Not in some act of bravado, but because I can. And today, as I now try to do every day, wherever I am, I will give a quiet nod of appreciation to the police who I pass. A small symbol of my thanks. An acknowledgement of what they do. For each and every one of us.