I had held her hand in hospital hallways at three in the morning and then driven a delivery route at six.

I had measured out her medications with hands shaking from tiredness.

I had loved her the whole time, fiercely, but I had loved her badly, because I had nothing left to love her with.

The nurse changed that.

With someone competent handling the daily medical burden, I could go back to simply being her son again, could sit with her without a clock running in my head, could bring her tea and talk about nothing and be present in a way I had not managed in years.

Nora’s money did not just pay for care.