The First Times Before The Last Times

         Two wrinkled eyes, looked up to meet a pair of young large baby blues. A grandmother holding her daughter's newborn child. Suddenly she looked down and the child was her own, that she had been looking at. It had been so long, since she had held a child in her arms. And this might be the last time, she ever was in a hospital holding one. First times were now becoming replaced with last times. There were so many things she would never do or see again. Where had the time gone?
         And sooner then she had been in the hospital, visiting her daughter, she was exiting the building. She went home and made herself some coffee. As she sat down at her kitchen table, she thought about everything she had experienced, all of those memories that lived only inside her mind. There were so many things she had never told her daughter, or anyone. Things that would be lost forever when she went. While she stood up from the table, and went to put her mug in the sink, she thought about how, she didn't want to be just the memory others held of her. She pushed in her kitchen chair, and walked into the next room over. When she sat down on her armchair, she thought about how she wanted others to know who she really was. She turned on the television set, but she couldn't focus. All of a sudden her mind was filled with memories of her past, so vivid, that she felt like she was reliving them.
         She looked over and on the lamp table next to her armchair, where she was seated, was a notepad. Why did she have a notepad? She picked it up and flipped it open. The book was filled with errands; certain ones had lines through them. Buy more toilet paper, and milk. Send in check for newspaper subscription. Meet with Eleanor on Wed at 2. Then some didn't have crosses through them. Check-up with Dr. Brownstein Mon 9am, Visit April Tuesday at 3pm, Donate books to Library Wednesday 10am. She suddenly remembered why she started the notepad; it was so that she would remember everything she needed to do. And that's when she got scared. How much longer would she be able to carry those memories inside her before they would be swept away?
         She looked at the last item on the list. Donate books to library Wednesday 10am. And suddenly, something clicked in her mind. She shut off the television, and stood up from her chair. She walked into the room, which used to serve as her husband's study. She hadn't been in there for so many months since he had passed. Upon opening the drawer of his old desk she found some loose-leaf. She grabbed the loose-leaf and a pen, closed the drawer, and went to sit at the dining room table. She didn't have to think, she just started writing.