What I did was not save her.

What I did was arrive — and clear away the people who were hurting her, and open the door of the storage room, and carry her toward the help she had been fighting for months to reach.

That is real, and it matters, and I am glad beyond words that I got to do it.

But it is a different thing from saving her, and the difference honors her.

A rescuer implies a helpless victim waiting to be carried.

My wife was never helpless.