"You're Strong, Momma"

My mom picked me up from school today and took me to the furniture store to pick up one couch and two bookcases. In agony, I go with her. We got home and got the bookcases out of the van fine but when we got to the couch, it was a little bit more difficult.

"You're strong, Momma! We got this."

She looked up at me while holding the couch with all her strength. She had a sparkle in her eyes as if she was looking at a five year old version of myself.

"Once, when you were five," she told me, "you told me the same thing. You were grounded from the TV for some reason." She laughed for a second before starting back. "Your daddy had taken the TV and put it on the floor in our room. This must have been when we were at Flatwoods," she added in. "Dad was out of town the day you were supposed to get it back and you were so determined to get it back. I told you that you'd have to wait, but you told me, 'Momma, you are just as strong as him. You are strong, Mommy. You can do it.' So, I put the TV on a beach towel and drug it out of our room, down the hall and into the living room. I got to the TV stand and heaved it up and onto the stand while you just stood there behind me and cheered 'You got it!' Then, when I turned back to you, you jumped up and down and we danced around the room celebrating the return of the TV."

"Haha," I laughed. "You are strong, Mom. We can do this."

And together, Mom and I picked the couch out of the van and onto the garage floor.

"Vaccum it," she told me as she walked inside, out of breath, for water.