A/N: here it is. Again, thank you all so much for reading this. i hope you enjoy the epilogue and let me know what you think if you feel so inclined. reading the reviews just puts a little more happiness into my day :)

Let me start by telling you, I don't have all the answers.

You'd think, after dying, you get the answers to all the questions you ever had in life. But you don't. Your life's choices aren't revealed as mistakes or correctly following the pathway of fate. They are still the choices you made, and you're either happy with them or you aren't.

There are a few things, though, of which I am perfectly certain.

First, there is most definitely such a place as Heaven. It's wonderful here. As soon as I died, I got to shed my old, frail body. It was only holding me back. Now, I walk around in nothing but my own soul. It's young and whole and has no limitation.

Another thing about Heaven? It always seems to be exactly the right weather. It's weird, I know, but if I want a fall day, the leaves turn automatically and the air smells like a log fire.

Usually, though, I keep it on summer. Summer days were my favorite in life. And since you don't get hot or cold in Heaven, I get to just enjoy the beautiful days in the sun.

Like I said, it's wonderful here.

Another thing I'm certain of: In Heaven, you can't just "look down" on the people still living. Those sayings about "Grandma watching over you"… those are definitely just for comfort. Grandma is probably having a party. Seeing how fast she can go without her old body. Playing with Heaven's climate-meter. I know I did when I first got here.

No, we can't look down. We can, however, catch glimpses.

When someone living thinks of you, misses you, carries on loving you even though you're gone… it's like their soul calls out. And in that moment, you can glimpse them.

After I died, almost all my glimpses were of the same person. She was an old woman, patiently biding her time left, waiting on that moment that had already claimed me. She thought of me often. She loved me still after so many years.

In all honesty, she was the one who was made for me. She knew it on Earth, and I knew it in Heaven. And we'd spent our lives apart.

Still, I couldn't bring myself to regret the pathway of my life. I missed out on being with her, but I got a life full of love anyway. I had children and grandchildren. And let me tell you, there is no higher joy than watching them grow and be happy.

But I'm not here to tell you about the happiness children bring. No, I'm digressing.

Back to the glimpses. My glimpses were of her, the old woman with the lonely soul. That is, until another soul starting calling out to me, which is really the story I want to tell now.

It was rather unexpected. I didn't even recognize her the first time I glimpsed her. She was a young and beautiful stranger. She was lost.

The first time I saw her, she had an old book in her hands. I recognized it immediately as my old diary, even though I hadn't seen it since I was very young. How she'd come to have it, I wasn't sure, but she did. And even though she didn't even know my face, her soul was calling to me.

For whatever reason, it seemed to light a fire in her. My story gave her direction. She came to love me. It was so touching, having a perfect stranger wish so badly for your happiness. I guess that's what let me love her back so easily.

And so then my glimpses became split. Sometimes I was pulled towards my lost love. I watched her thinking of me alone. Always alone. Other times, I was pulled the other way, watching a young woman fall in love and thanking me for it all the while. Hot and cold, those glimpses.

There was one occasion I felt a pull so strong I probably couldn't have ignored it if I'd wanted to. You can only imagine my surprise when I saw the people who thought of me most talking together in the same room. That was a very interesting glimpse indeed.

But the real reason I'm here is to tell you of a different glimpse. This particular one happened several months after the day I saw Grace and Santana in the same room together.

Santana was thinking of me again. The tenor of her soul was serious but content. When I saw her, she was sitting on a couch. My diary (well, it was really more hers than mine now) was sitting open-faced on a small table in front of her, and she was writing. It was dark outside her windows. After watching her for a few seconds, she set her pen down in the middle of the open pages and yawned. I wasn't sure what time it was for her (it was daylight in Heaven at the time), but it must have been late.

As if sensing that she was done writing, another woman appeared at the mouth of the hallway. Her blonde hair was messy and splayed around her face like a halo. She had obviously been sleeping.

The blonde's name was Brittany. What a kind heart she had. She was good for Santana.

"What are you still doing up, sweetie?" she asked heavily. Her voice was scratchy from sleep. She made her way over to Santana and sat next to her on the couch.

"I just filled in the last page," Santana responded, removing her pen and closing my diary. "I was just about to come to bed."

Brittany nodded, her eyes were practically closing again already.

"What will you write in now?"

Santana laid her hand on the little book and sighed.

"You know, I don't think I need to anymore."

Santana smiled and stood before Brittany could respond.

"Let's go to bed. I'm exhausted."

She took Brittany's hand and lifted her up too. They turned the lights off and departed.

But in the dark sat my diary. Old and weathered, it contained so much love. Santana's love for Brittany. Her love for me. Even my broken love from years gone by was still there in faded letters at the beginning.

And on the last page, in neat yet cramped writing, were the following words:

Dear Maggie,

I've finally filled up your journal. I can't believe the journey I've had the last several months. I can't believe what my life has become.

I still miss my family, I suppose that will never change. But when I think of them now, it's with happy memories. And I think that's what they'd want.

I still think of you often as well. Sometimes it hits me all over again that you're gone too, and for a moment I feel sad. But then I think, wherever you are, I'm sure you're happy. And that makes me feel better.

Without you, I don't think I ever would have seen Brittany for what she truly is. Without you, I would have missed out on her completely. You woke me up, and she brought me back to life.

She is undoubtedly my person. She was undoubtedly made for me.

Maggie, I'm not sure what I believe happens when a person dies. But I have to believe there is something. I have to believe my family is somewhere, together, right now. I have to believe you are. If there is a Heaven, I'm sure you're all there. Could you tell them hello for me?

Also, if there is a Heaven, I hope you're there waiting for Grace. She still loves you, and I know that's what she's hoping for. She's hoping to find you waiting for her when her time comes. She wants to apologize. Make right what she did wrong before.

And if I'm being honest with you, I hope for that too. I hope there is forgiveness in you.

I suppose I won't be writing to you anymore. It wouldn't feel right, not writing in this journal. But you'll still have a place in my heart always. You woke me up, and I will forever be grateful.

You led me to my person, and now all I can hope is that you'll find a way back to yours.

Wait for her, please?

Thank you so much for your story. I will never ever forget a word of it.

Love always,

Santana Lopez

My glimpse was beginning to fade; I was being pulled out of the room and back to the sunlight in Heaven.

But in the dark, sat my diary. Inside it, Santana had made a request of me.

Wait for her, I will.

la fin.