First we slept on mattresses in the porch, the sun waking us up and sending us out the door to the field. Working again and again like our father and grandfather before, each pursuing to make it better than before. Getting coins pressed in my hand over and over again until it became a bank account in my name. A college degree and hearing “good job.” A marriage license with a “Mrs.” and a birth certificate with “born to.” Driving a new car into the neighborhood and a house deed with my signature. But the house next door is bigger.