Memories.

Callie was exhausted. It had felt like her work day was never going to end, but when she got home, she found herself missing Sofia too much to sleep. It was only fair for Arizona to get her for half the time, but still. As much as Callie hated to admit it, she often missed being a family.

After making and eating a single portion of pasta and salad and flipping through the newest delivery of Sunset Magazine, she resolved to do a bit of organizing. That had always been a good way for her to unwind. She liked her space being in order, especially since she felt like life itself so rarely was.

Callie sighed as she sit down on the floor of the rug in front of the TV cabinet. She knew that there were dozens of unlabeled DVDs down there, and she was sure that she could at least give away a few.

She pulled out a stack of burned DVDs without cases and stuck one into the DVD player. Immediately, she rolled her eyes when she saw that it was "Frozen." That was one she couldn't get rid of; Sofia loved that movie more than anything. Quickly, Callie ejected it and pulled out her permanent marker, writing "Frozen" on it so that it would be identifiable.

One down, a few dozen to go, Callie thought.

She stuck the next DVD into the player, and smiled when the menu came up on screen: "The Kids are All Right." She and Arizona had seen it together more than once, and she chuckled at the memory of Arizona talking about how hot she'd found Julianne Moore. They had used to love their movie nights.

She ejected the DVD and labeled it accordingly. Even though her memories of the movie were closely tied with memories of her ex-wife, she found that she couldn't just get rid of it. It was well-written, after all.

Callie quickly put in the next DVD. She made a face once it began to play: it was a "Baby Einstein" tape, and Sofia had grown out of that years ago. Callie labeled it and began a giveaway pile. Being single, it was looking like she wouldn't need it again. As much as she had thought about having another baby a few years before, the thought no longer crossed her mind. It had been something she had wanted with Arizona. It had been something she had felt like they needed.

Now, she no longer wanted more kids. It just didn't feel right without Arizona; which she knew was weird and didn't make sense, but still. It just didn't feel right.

Callie stuck the following DVD into the player. Suddenly, she saw Mark's face, and her breath hitched. There he was, in front of her, talking. Immediately, Callie grabbed the remote and turned up the volume.

Her best friend was right in front of her, wearing a tux from her wedding, and Callie cursed herself for never watching her and Arizona's wedding video before.

Because this was Mark. And these were the last words she'd ever hear him say.

And she wished that she had found this sooner. Because she missed him more than she would ever be able to comprehend. He had been family. He had been her best friend.

And, more than anything, she wished he were here now.

I had a patient once who told me about his wedding day, as Mark began to speak, Callie brought a hand up to the screen and traced the lines of his face with her fingertips.

And how they asked all the married couples to come to the dance floor to dance together. And then they asked the couples who had only been married a year to sit down, then five, ten, twenty, and so on. Until they got to the last two couples. Two sets of grandparents: been together sixty years. Sixty years with the love of their life. That's going to be you two at our granddaughter's wedding.

Callie, Arizona, he concluded. Congratulations. I love you.

And at those words, Callie couldn't hold back her sob. "I love you, I love you, I love you," she whispered, pausing the DVD and just looking at her dead best friend's face.

How had everything gotten so screwed up?! Mark was never even going to see Sofia grow up, much less her daughter.

And Callie and Arizona would no longer dance together at their granddaughter's wedding. 60 years? Callie scoffed. They couldn't even make it to six.

Callie was grateful to have found the wedding tape, but she was also mournful when she thought about how much had changed. How much she'd…lost. How much the plane crash had truly taken from them. It had not only cost Mark's life, but in many ways, it had cost her life and that of Arizona's.

Callie no longer recognized her life some days. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be.

Arizona was supposed to be the love of her life. They were supposed to be together for sixty years.

Forever.

Callie wished they could have been happy together: forever. That had been the plan.

But from experience, she knew—perhaps better than anyone—that life had a habit of changing plans.