Unexpected Delivery from the Other Side

Someone was knocking at the door. With a sigh, Molly picked up the baby from the high chair and slung him across her hip, kicked the toys across the floor out of her way, and went to look out the peep hole. The first thing she saw was a purple hat with a huge peacock feather sticking out the top. Looking down, she took in the white hair peeking out from underneath it, and a kind face that was lined with age.

She must have the wrong apartment, Molly thought. She didn't look dangerous anyway. Molly began to unlock the deadbolt and chain. She swung open the door just as the baby began to cry loudly. Molly spoke louder over the crying, "Yes?"

The old woman smiled and turned to the baby, and winked. "Now you don't want to cry like that, little one." Instantly, the baby stopped crying and smiled. Molly was impressed, but was just beginning to wonder if maybe this lady was selling something. She wished now she hadn't opened the door. Only salespeople would try to get to you through your kids.

The little old lady pushed back her hat, which seemed way too large for her small face, and smiled. "I'm not selling anything, dear. I just thought I'd stop by today and tell you that your mother is proud of you."

Molly's mouth fell open and she felt the air leave her lungs with a whoosh. Before she could reply, the old lady turned and started scooting away down the hallway, the way old women shuffle their feet. Molly shifted the baby again, and called out, "Wait. Wh-wh-what did you say? Who are you?"

The old lady turned slowly and said, "Just delivering a message, Honey. That's all." And she walked into the waiting elevator. Molly glanced back into the apartment at her other two children staring absently at the television, potato chips scattered all over the carpet among the scattered blocks, doll clothes, and crayons. She yelled at them, "Stay right there!" as she ran toward the elevator, but the door was closed, and the old woman was gone.

She slowly went back into the apartment, and sank into the straight back chair at the kitchen table. Her hands shook as she put the baby back into the high chair. She pulled her cold cup of coffee across the sticky table and took a swig. Tears began to fall.

Her mom had been gone now for over ten years, having died with Molly was just a teenager. Her dad had tried to do his best but parenting seemed overwhelming to him, and he left Molly with relatives often. Molly missed her mom, but more so lately as she felt like such a failure. Her house was always a mess, her children needed much more than she seemed able to give. Her husband traveled so much with his job, Molly really felt as though she was doing it all alone. Could this old lady really be delivering a message from her mom? Was that even possible? Or was she just some batty old lady who had the wrong apartment? That must be it.

Molly looked at the dishes in the sink, the piles of dirty laundry she had sorted but not washed yet, and the face of her chubby toddler now eating the small circles of cereal off the tray of his high chair with his chubby fingers. Molly thought that she did the best she could, but it was never enough to do anything but keep a managed chaos.

Just then her cell phone rang, and Molly picked it up from the table. As she flipped it open, the sun began to shine through the kitchen window, bathing her in light. Before she could say hello, she heard the music. She recognized the tune as the song her mother always sang to her. The words the old woman spoke came back to her, "Your mother is proud of you." And Molly began to believe that, and knew that her mother was with her, watching over her, and understood what she was going through. Molly dried her eyes and began to do the dishes. She wasn't alone after all.