I had made it very clear that I couldn’t lend any money that month, because I still had to put all my money and emotional strength toward the surgery I was about to undergo, and I kept thinking my daughter-in-law would be understanding and stop there. But just a few minutes later, my phone lit up with a message from her, so cold that I was left stunned, unable to believe what had just appeared before my eyes.

Then there was the car, two years later, when his transmission died on the interstate and they couldn’t manage the repair bill and daycare in the same month. Twenty-two hundred dollars. Then the dental work my daughter-in-law needed that their insurance wouldn’t fully cover, because there are always loopholes in coverage when mouths or eyes or joints are involved, as though teeth are a luxury and seeing is optional. Then the backyard fence they wanted the summer before last because my grandson’s birthday was coming and they wanted somewhere safe for him to play. I remember standing in the heat of their yard while the estimate guy talked about pressure-treated pine and latch height, and thinking what kind of grandmother wouldn’t help with that if she could.

I never kept a running total. That is not why you give. Or at least it had never been why I gave.