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4. scared
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scared four I was scared. Scared about specifics, like what if Jeff fell on the floor and there were no attendants around to help get him back up (something that actually happened several times)? And scared in general-the kind of scared when you've just started a new job or had a new baby, and you don't quite know what you're scared of. "You're one body in charge of moving two bodies," Bret would say at age about eleven. "It didn't feel secure," our daughter, Marielle remembers now at twenty-four. "We could never plan anything. There were so many factors that could go wrong. Everything would be all set-like, we'd be about to go out somewhereand then suddenly Dad would have to go to the bathroom." At one of the well-spouse annual conventions there were separate workshops for men and women. At the women's workshop we talked about fear of poverty, fear of being left with no income or social security. "And," I added, "there's something else I feel, and that's fear of something even worse than poverty. I'm not even sure how to describe it; I think it's fear of being, not even homeless, but streetless. 71 Copyrighted Material dirty details 72 It's fear of being in a situation where you don't know what to do-of being a street person without a street, or something ." I hadn't known how to describe it, but now I heard a few soft voices whispering yes and I felt the entire room nod. And suppose there was a fire, or a burglar? Suppose the Gulf War got to the United States? Not only couldn't Jeff protect us but we'd have to get him out of the house. In a hurry. He weighed 155 pounds. What if there were an explosion and Jeff and I were the only ones left in the world-no attendants, at all, ever? Once we discovered a rat in the house. It was too late in the evening to call an exterminator. Besides, it was Memorial Day. We couldn't even stay overnight at any friend's house because all the houses in this neighborhood have front steps, and no ramps. I did locate an exterminator that evening, but we were left feeling humbled. Sometimes we'd be home alone, the kids all out with friends or asleep. The electric clock would be ticking. "That means it's starting to go," Jeff would remark. It seemed all our possessions were starting to go. Dishwasher, VCR, even the living-room Oriental rug had an unexplained crevice toward the southwest corner. Because of finances, or our worry about finances, we never replaced anything. We were phasing everything out, maybe even ourselves. So scary, so undependable, was our house that once Marielle reached college age, she chose not to live in it, even though it was only a mile from the college. One of the things that helped me through being scared was having Devin. A week after he was born Arin, then Copyrighted Material [54.226.25.246] Project MUSE (2024-03-19 04:34 GMT) scared 73 twelve, looked at me in wonder and remarked, "Mom, you're glowing." I kept glowing for seven years, even through nights, lifting, and toilet. Still, I was scared. You can glow and be scared at the same time. "More scared," I kept writing in my diary. Scared like Bret's hamster lost in our wall. Scared about bills in the mail, like that erroneous one for fifteen thousand and something from the City of Philadelphia. Scared when Jeff said we couldn't keep our Oriental rug on the first floor if we got a kitten and we'd already promised one to Bret. Scared about the huge trike on the first floor that Jeff got from a friend and that he couldn't possibly use, a gigantic child's tricycle, maybe four feet all around that he said he'd take to his office at Penn; but I didn't need one more big thing I couldn't move, didn't need one more body to be in charge of. Scared that none of the four attendants we'd be interviewing that week would work out. Of course, I was scared of letting strangers into our home all the time. As it turned out, nothing bad ever happened; we never got robbed, I...