I'm turning 21 years-old this year. The big 21 with the beautiful crown of adulthood. People said turning 18 was the scariest and most exciting birthday but I think 21 has earned that crown. The government declares you legal at 18 but it's on your 21st birthday that people around starts to welcome you into adulthood. Everything is now available to you. Even though you still feel too young for everything.

So, imagine my degree of anxiety as I see the days in the calendar keep changing and changing. So little time yet so many things to do, so many moments to live. Such a short life yet so many regrets.

We all have regrets – moments in our lives we wish to make disappear. Or wish to do all over again. What if there was a redo button? A do-it-over spell?

What would I do? What would I change?

My last moments with my maternal grandpa.

I can't remember anything from my last moments with my maternal grandma so there would be too much to change and not enough power in the spell to accomplish it all.

But when it comes to my grandpa – the one grandpa I did get a chance to know – I would give anything to change that last moment that I haven't stopped reliving every night for an entire year.

It was a Sunday morning. My family went for one of our habitual visits to my grandparents' house. My grandma had already passed away two years, ago.

Most of my aunts were still living in the house with their children. It was a tiny house with barely three rooms but it had enough noise and activity to support the entire country.

I don't remember what I did when I arrived but I guess it must have been the usual. I kissed everybody, answered their probing questions. It was always the same questions so I'd memorized my answers by then.

The entire time, my grandpa was sat in a little chair by the open front door. He didn't do anything anymore. He stopped wanting to do anything since grandma died. It was not easy to continue living without the person with whom he spent the last couple of decades.

"I'm going," I said to him as I reached the door. My parents were already out the door and my brothers were with my aunts inside.

He took my hand and smiled. He brought it up to his lips but before he could kiss me goodbye, I interrupted him.

"Are you coming tomorrow?"

"No, I don't think so." He let my hand go and I went on my way not knowing that was the last time I would ever see him alive.

Ever since the news came, all I can keep doing is looking at the back of my hand. If only I had let him kiss my hand. If only I had kept my mouth shut, we could have had a proper last goodbye.