skin hunger

a diary of my mother's stubborn resistance to accept help

1 March 2025:

The universe dropped a wonderful potential caregiver for my mother in our lap. (She is named after a poison plant, I’ll call her Ivy.) Ivy was lovely! Over the phone I told her of my mother’s intransigence, her dogged independence, her blind eye to the ways in which her life is crumbling… unpaid bills, bad food in the fridge, dog peeing on the carpet tous les jours, personal hygiene slipping away, falling in the street. Ivy said that once a client allows her to help with bathing, they soften. “Human touch releases them from brittle resistance.” They have skin hunger. I loved Ivy.

My mother dressed for the occasion when Ivy came to visit, donning a black hat, reminiscent of a proud witch. I think Dame Judy Dench would play her well. She led Ivy around with a sort of noblesse oblige, showing Ivy family photos, her (long ignored) buddhist alter, her bookcase. I love what my mother is proud of. Ivy was kind and attentive, exactly the person I would like to be but fail, due to, well, history of abuse, long ago and recent.

After the meeting we took my mother to CVS (3rd attempt, so many troubles with Medicare Plan-D), and then to dinner.

Across the table, she was happy, imagining Ivy in the front house, checking in, paying rent. We sat beneath a gorgeous painting by Sonia Calderon (instagram.com/sonia.cal…) which I fawned over. Out loud I imagined it hanging in my home. “I’ll buy it for you!” my mother said. She meant it, though of course none of us could afford it. In the moment she wanted to do it. These moments are rare. She tucked into an enormous tiramisu, finished a glass of wine, leaned heavily upon my husband on the way to the car. Did that relieve some skin hunger?

The next day Ivy declined. I thanked her. My mother said, “Just as well. I don’t need help.” She won’t move to assisted living. My therapist tells me I am in the audience at the theater. I am not in the plot.

I feel so bereft. Next week I will be back home, in another state, and APS will visit my mother. onward….