***
One morning, I dropped the kids off as usual.
I was halfway to work when I realized I’d forgotten my purse at home. I turned around and drove back.
I wondered if I was failing my grandchildren.
When I was back inside the house, I heard a knock at the door. Through the window, I saw a delivery truck parked in the driveway. A man in a brown uniform was standing on my porch.
“Are you Carolyn?” he asked when I opened the door.
“Yes?”
“We have a delivery for you. The box is very large and very heavy. We can bring it inside if you’d like.”
I stared at him. “What box?”
I saw a delivery truck parked in the driveway.
He gestured to the truck. Two other men were already pulling something out of the back. It was enormous. The size of a small refrigerator. Wrapped in brown paper.
There was only one label on it: “To My Mom.”
My address. Nothing else.
It took all three men to carry it inside. They set it down in my living room and left.
Two other men were already pulling something out of the back.
I stood there, staring at it. My hands were shaking as I found a box cutter in the kitchen drawer.
I cut through the tape carefully and opened the top flap.
Right on top was a sealed envelope.
I pulled it out. My name was written on the front… in Darla’s handwriting.
My legs nearly gave out. I sat down on the couch and tore open the envelope with trembling fingers.
My name was written on the front… in Darla’s handwriting.
The letter was dated three weeks before she died. The first line made my heart stop.
“Mom, I know you’re probably confused right now. But if this box has been delivered to you, it means I’m no longer alive.”
I couldn’t breathe as I kept reading.
“There are things you never knew about me. I have to tell you the truth. You’ll understand everything once you open the package.”
I set the letter down and looked back at the box. My mind was racing. What could be in there? What truth had Darla kept from me?
