To understand why Gavin had done all of this, you have to understand what my mother had, because he certainly understood it, down to the last figure.

She was not a wealthy woman in any flashy sense, but she was a secure one, secure in the way that comes from a lifetime of careful choices and one or two pieces of good fortune.

She owned her home outright, a solid suburban house she had inherited from my grandparents.

She owned two small commercial storefronts that brought in a modest, dependable rent every month.

And she had a meaningful cushion of investment savings, money my father had worked and saved and left behind for exactly this, so that she would never have to be afraid in her later years.