The woman I hired to care for my paralyzed husband — 500 pounds a night. But on the fifth night, someone called me

My name is Lena. I’m 35 and work long shifts at a garment factory in Dallas. My husband Tom was once strong and full of life, but after a car accident left him paralyzed, our home became silent and heavy. I worked by day and cared for him by night until exhaustion nearly broke me.

Our neighbor, Mrs. Harper—a lonely widow and former nurse’s aide—offered to care for Tom at night for $500. She seemed kind, so I agreed. For a few nights, everything was peaceful. Then one evening, another neighbor, Mrs. Carter, called in panic: “Lena, come home—she’s on top of your husband!”

I ran home through the rain. In the bedroom, Tom lay pale and breathless. Mrs. Harper was leaning over him, crying. She said she thought he couldn’t breathe. Tom whispered, “I just wanted to remember… her…” And then Mrs. Harper broke down, saying Tom reminded her of her late husband and she’d lost control in her grief.

I realized she wasn’t cruel—just broken and lonely. I thanked her but told her I’d care for Tom myself from now on. She quietly left into the storm.

Since that night, I quit my full-time job and stay home with Tom. Mrs. Harper moved away. And I’ve never forgotten what I learned: sometimes the scariest things aren’t what we see, but the sorrow that makes people forget reality. I held Tom’s hand and promised—no one in this house will ever be alone again.