The rain rolls down the glass windows. A fluorescent mirror of light reflects off the armor of glass, and beams into the weakening eyes of the woman sitting on her bed, just arising from her fitful nights rest.

Reaching for her familiar cane, she stumbles over to her table near the front of the room, still drowsy from her restless nights sleep. Glancing at the mirror on the wall in front of her, she frowns. The creases and folds of skin enveloped her face, more clear and distinct than she had recalled. She sighed, remembering the forever ago, the days of flawless complexions, silky hair, and strong bones built from gold.

Once downstairs, she crunched on her healthy breakfast, a combination of whole grain cereals and soy milk, followed by a little red pill, to keep her strong and fit. All she could think of as the grainy texture of that little red capsule slid down her throat and entered her soul were those memories, those recollections of when she was a child, eagerly swallowing the little colorful gummy vitamins full of sugar and vitamin C. She reminisced of the previous years, when she could eat anything, be anything, and do absolutely everything. She thought about her present day life. The life of sitting around, staring at blank walls as if they had the answer to existence. The life of nostalgia, dating back to the past just to occupy the now.

Looking at the floral calender hung on the wall by a rusting nail, her eyes were drawn to the light blue writing, taking up the spot of October 13, 2012. Tomorrow. The annual relative-visiting day. She flashed a ghost smile, a slight twitch in her chapped lips, a flicker in her eyes.

That night, when the moon had illuminated the darkness and the shades were drawn tight on the lady’s white house, sleep came quickly to the woman. And in the morning, she awoke with not a sigh, but a smile on her lips. Today was the day the relatives were coming.

After her morning routine, a wholesome breakfast and warm shower, the woman could not contain her excitement. It exploded out of her like a glass, overfilled with water. It ricocheted off the frail walls of the house, and conducted her down to the front porch of her cottage. There, she waited.

The cozy morning sun put her in a doze, but she was soon awakened by the gasping sound of her daughters pick up truck, rolling into the dusty driveway. Children poured out of the tarnished vehicle from all directions, aiming towards the woman in her rocking chair, plunked down in the sun.

“Grandma, grandma!” The youngsters called.

The older ones smiled, and wrapped her in a friendly hug. The woman felt more loved than ever before. She felt the warmth of everyones kindness, and returned them the favor. She saw her daughters, all grown up and all so beautiful. She saw her sons, all so tall and all so strong. And she saw the new generations, the grandchildren, all surrounding her with tenderness and love.

That night, when she glanced in the mirror and thought about the past, she didn’t look at the imperfections. She saw the future, a future full of new adventures and journeys. A new period, a new section, of her existence. She finally discovered that her life was not ending: it was just beginning. And she knew that she would make the best of it.