This story is the story of my life. In microcosm, of course, 'cause it's only one blog entry. But still. See what you think....

I have heard two different things from /about the family where I have taken on a new client, 5 days a week.

At first, the story I heard went like this: The unfortunate wife and mother has MS. She and her husband, who is devoted to her and is a hard working salesman, have a little boy and she had a personal friend who was very close to her living with them as a housekeeper. However, the friend, who is from the Carribean, same place as my client, became ill suddenly and wanted to go back to be with her family as she sought treatment, especially since it was unclear what the nature of her illness was, but it seemed serious. As a result, they were left without a housekeeper.....

The second story I heard went like this: The unfortunate wife and mother has MS. She and her husband, who is out til all hours of the night because he is "getting it on the side" have a little boy. Her mother recruited someone she knew or with whom her family had some kind of relationship in the Carribean to come as a live in housekeeper for her daughter to work for $X amount of money. When the live in housekeeper, who was there for over a year requested a raise to $Y amount of money the husband quit paying her entirely, knowing that she was isolated and had very little recourse. The situation upset the housekeeper so terribly, being torn between her wish to care for the lady who is sweet natured and helpless and her anger at the husband, that her health declined and she had no choice but to go home.

Now, here's my story: I get a call from people who are in very serious need of housekeeper because their live in is going back the Carribean and the lady of the house has MS. They live in the place I call The Land That Time Forgot - that area of the County where I lived as a child. It's very difficult to explain The Land That Time Forgot....just take my word for it when I say that I think it is one of those places in the world like Danvers, MA ( which was Salem at the time of the Salem witch trials) where I think misfortunes accumulate. Maybe it has to do with lei lines, magnetic fields, MTBE in the water, Indian burial grounds - WHATEVER. But keep in mind as you read my fanciful descriptions that this place is bordered on one side by a place the Colonial settlers called Rattlesnake Ridge, and in the town that place became there have been more murders than anyplace else in the county - even places with significantly more people. The road I call Bad Memory Lane is notorious for horrific accidents, and for as much prime real estate is out there the place looks exactly as it did 30 years ago, except for the bank which is now just an abandoned building. 30 years ago, most of the people were backward, ignorant, and racist. An elderly woman whom I eventually coaxed into friendship when I was a child told me that she honestly believed that Catholic priests had tails which they concealed under their vestments and she was grateful to me for befriending her and enlightening her so she would not die with this wrong thought following her to heaven. (where she was sure, I might add, that she was going. But, God bless her, she was helpless, in a wheelchair and her family used to just set her out on the porch all day and forget about her. I was the only living soul who ever sat with her, except her little dog, without whom I think she might have really lost her mind)

So.

Before I ever even showed up I didn't want to take the job because I have extremely bad memories of The Land That Time Forgot and I am savvy enough to know that if person is used to having the help of a live in housekeeper one that comes in for 2-4 hours a day is not gonna be able to fill the same roll.

I showed up for the interview. I agreed to come back for a 2nd interview, but on the way there I practiced, over and over again in the car saying "No, I'm sorry, I can't help you." I prayed for guidence, I prayed for help. Either God had another plan or it just didn't work because when I opened my mouth I heard myself saying "Well, I'll try it and see how it works out."

If you have known me for more than 5 minutes, you would know this is what I would say. And I started working there on Sunday - emergency call, of course. So far, this is what I think: The lady of house, who has MS, was raised in the Carribean. Consequently, her attitude toward me - the hired help - is not like the attitudes of people who were raised in this country. There's a serious class system unlike anything we know about first hand here where she's from. She is not unfriendly, impolite, rude, or unkind. Indeed, she is sweet natured, patient, and gives every indication that she feels her dependancy upon others most deeply. But, old habits, the habits of ones childhood die hard if they die at all. Consequently there are a hundred little disconnects: me sitting down on a chair in the living room to listen to her talk causing a micromomentary expression of surprise....the child being allowed to call me by my first name, yet being seriously chastised for not eating his supper ( "That is an insult to Tea and her work!")....and weirdest of all for me to deal with, and only when the husband is home, is the idea that I'm not exactly in the room when I'm in the room.

These things don't insult me. ( I don't think they do, anyway) I just find them weird, and am finding it really hard to connect with these people. The husband, by the way, is not from the Carribean. He's from a rough part of a big city on the east coast of the US. His speech and manners are very rough edged. He is loud, quick tempered, and street smart. On the day that his wife acted the most "to the manor born" he instinctively could tell I was right on the edge of getting annoyed with it, and went out of his way to be friendly and folksy to me. He's not charming, but he's not my husband. Moreover, I've met many people whose rough exterior hid a heart of gold. Not that it's any of my business, but I think it's much more likely that he's working than cheating.

I think I'm waiting to see if I get paid tomorrow. And I'll let you know. But of all the weird situations I get myself into, this is the one that feels the weirdest to me, and the worst thing is I can't say WHY.

Like I said, it's the story of my life: trying to help somebody out, feeling wierd & not knowing why.

Wonder how this is all going to work out?