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give up being close to my husband, where I could help him out of his difficulties and perhaps arrange for his leaving the hospital earlier than he would if I were not at hand and didn't have a home at hand. I didn't want to give up the pleasant discussion clubs I belonged to in New York, the reading groups that you belong to in New York. I didn't want to give up my church. I adored my parish church. I was very fond of it. I couldn't bear to be torn out of that. I had all the instincts of not wanting to be uprooted.

All this was particularly acute with me because I had been through quite a hard struggle of one kind and another. I had just gotten myself to a point where I felt relatively at ease, and relatively content with my situation. I also loved my job. It was a perfect job. It exactly suited me. It just exactly fitted into my life, into my personal demands, needs and so forth. I didn't see why I should give it up. I didn't like that.

I couldn't even contemplate the thought that anybody could take over my work in the New York Department of Labor and do it as well. I just couldn't accept that thought. It was all very precious to me. There were two or three items that were incompleted, unfinished business, that I had written out and promised to myself that I would get done. I could get them done if I could stay there four years more.