I won the battle of the couches. But the win wasn't as triumphant as I thought it would be.

Let me explain.

As you may remember, my stepmom let us take and use the cream colored leather couches from the house she shared with my dad. She bought a different house and moved last weekend, and we (and by we I mean Tony) moved the couches to her new house.

I felt fine about it, glad even that she found a house and could move out of my grandparents basement where I'm sure she didn't feel all that comfortable without her own space. Living with the in-laws isn't exactly optimal.

She was walking me through her new empty house and talking about what her plans were for improvements when I just started to feel this hollow, echoing emptiness thinking about how my dad wasn't here to help her. I was worrying about her struggling, and feeling vaguely helpless and out of control as I so often have in the past year.

When Tony and I left I made it about six blocks before I started sobbing.