Amelia's face is like staring into a mirror from fifty years ago- minus my saggy boobs and my face cracking like ancient porcelain. Reluctantly, a smile tugged at my mouth when I recognized a sneaky gleam in her emerald eyes that spark for life, always so troubling. Her beautiful face framed with wavy brown hair reminisces of a wild forest nymph… to remember those days when my life held unlimited opportunities.

"Guy, we have to go to the best club, not that one," Amelia crooned from the foyer.

Then, Amelia opened her mouth, and at that moment; I recognized her curse. That poor foolish soul was me; she was destined to relive my past. Guy was a striking bloke with rich chestnut hair, serious grey eyes, and a sexy smile-I'm not dead yet. Very soon; however, my eyes work perfectly. That boy could slide his slippers under my bed. My granddaughter couldn't piece together a jigsaw puzzle with four parts. It harmed my heart to overhear her conversation with him.

The heavy brocade drape felt coarse in my hand as I drew it away from my window; my tired eyes watched Amelia arguing with her young man. Guy was a darling handsome boy; my granddaughter was a foolish child. My lips curled when I remembered questioning and longing for more for in life. It seemed the world waited to be conquered by me, a foolish thought of my youth. The quick descent into the depths of despair when I realized that I lost the most important person in my life.

The curtain dropped from my hands as a tremor of pain troubled my back. My life was slowly fading away as the bouts of pain lasted longer and grew in frequency and intensity. Droopy heavy lids covered my weakened eyes.

Slowly, I limped to my closet; my arms struggle to reach the overhead shelf. Getting old was a bitch. Those boxes held my secrets. Thoughts and events tucked away into bittersweet memories. I stretched my frail arm towards the dusty ledger. I flinched when my arms quivered with throbbing pain.

"Lucy," I called. My hand resting on my chest as my heart contracted painfully.

I sat on my bed watching Lucy pull my treasure boxes from the closet. Lucy was so very special to me. Amelia's younger sister had a good head on her shoulders. She was sensible, and calm much like my older sister, Morgause. She didn't act on emotion, rather on reflective practice.

"Anything else, Granny?"

Lucy stared at me with deep hesitant brown eyes. Her fingers twisting around a lock of blonde hair. Lucy was the child of my peace, while Amelia was like Pandora, just waiting to muck up everything.

"No, just wake me for dinner, and leave an old woman with her memories."

Lucy nodded. She pressed her lips tightly together. It was hard for the child to fathom my pending death. When death comes; we can't ignore his call. He would soon arrive for a final visit. He arrived for several meetings before… I was able to reschedule. My body has grown too weak to fight the battle for a physical existence. Before that occurs, I need to set Amelia straight about life.

My eyes watered, and my nose twitched from the dust as it floated around the room. My fingers wrote his name on a thick covering of dust. The lid made a bouncing noise as I dropped it to the floor.

The pages felt rich under my hands; as I traced them gently. I smiled at my childish handwriting. The past waiting to jump at me. Heartbreak and regret fatefully etched across my journals spanning a lifetime-full of regret, joy, and endless possibilities.

Yes, she needed to know about… walking away from love.

Dearest Amelia,

I'm dead. My body is released and no longer has to live with pain. The time for tears is over, rejoice. I am free. Celebrate my amazing life. I need you to stop crying, and face my loss. Seriously, dry up the tears. No, I am not sprouting the old fashioned saying of a "stiff upper lip." My life was full of happiness and sadness and lots of contentment. It could have been better, if I had followed my heart. Over the last few months, my shrewd old eyes watched you with Guy. Guy is a very good man. He loves you desperately. Amelia, you are indifferent to his oblivious affection; history repeats with you. You are making my horrid mistakes. Your lack of wisdom mistakes his kindness for weakness, his unobtrusive dignity for boredom, his ability to wait as impassive.

How do I know anything? I was you my dear; I walked away from the love of my life because I wanted excitement, the thrill of the chase, and ended with feelings of nothingness and loss. Towards the end of my life, I was a dying old woman living in painful days of regret. So, I took the most influential entries of all of diary, and collected them for you. Ambrose is instructed to force you to read each entry. Yes, I said force. Should you decide not to listen to the diaries, you and the family will get nothing, not one quid. You aren't designed for poverty. Could you real make poor Lucy suffer? I can because I 'm dead. The entire estate will go to pigeon farmers in America. I was in a sound mind at the time of this will, and an insanity case will not be beneficial for the family. So, brew a pot of tea, and enjoying reading about my life.

Truly with love,

Gran