today

Yesterday was my mother's 76th birthday. I wasn't able to bring myself to contact her by phone or letter, although every fiber in my body told me I "should" (nasty word, that). Seeing her in person has been out of the question for quite some time. At this point, contacting her, I feel, would make it seem that "things are OK" (this is aside from any negative impact seeing her would have on me). Things are not OK.

It's not just about my desire to get away from her blame-shifting, thoughtless remarks, mind-numbing inertia, and drive-by insults, although that's all a part of it. It's also that I literally can no longer bear the pain of watching the impacts of her mindset escalate for her as she ages. She is starving in a land of plenty (she has all the resources she could ever need), living for months on end in a Cambridge hotel, giving lip service to the idea that she needs medical care but seeking none due to her inability (perceived or real, it doesn't matter at this point) to get dressed, get out the door, and get in a cab, thus availing herself of the best health care anywhere on the planet. Her recent letters to me suggest she only bathes every month or two (she likes to keep track of that statistic, in addition to how many days she's been holed up in the hotel); she lives on room service. Her financial manager is aghast at the thousands of dollars a month of extra spending this lifestyle causes; I found myself more or less saying "there, there" to him the last time we spoke on the phone.

My oldest brother J. persists in seeing her occasionally (sometimes with her grandchildren in tow...what must this all look like to them? They are twins in sixth grade now). Her only routine face-to-face human contact is with the hotel personnel: people who are paid to be nice to her, to defer to her (but unlike personnel at an assisted living facility, where she really belongs, the hotel folks aren't set up to act in her best interest unless she were in total agreement with their actions). She has often called certain hotel employees her "friends"; truthfully, they may be the closest approximation she's got, at this point.

Her real-life friends have been stepping back over time, and the oddest part is I don't think she's even noticed, mostly. She's an only child, and has no siblings to "check" her; her parents passed away 10-20 years ago; the few intrepid souls who've hung in as her friends, either actively or on the margins, have been raged at and cut off by her if they suggest she's off-base, no matter how delicately they do it. She's living a narcissist's dream: she answers to nobody, she is called to account by nobody, consequences be damned. Unfortunately, the consequences which do inevitably grow out of this mindset, largely, are primarily negative outcomes for *her*.

I recently did some research on agencies in the Boston area who do home health care aide work. If she had someone who was there a few hours a day whose job it was to see she got bathed, dressed, and converse a bit with someone on a daily basis, as well as help her get to medical appointments, I can't help but think that things could improve. I gave the information to my brother J. and sent her a very positive and matter-of-fact note about it (no recriminations...I've accepted that I will never succeed in getting her to try to gain insight into her life, as this is the the last skill a narcissist ever learns, even after years of therapy --- which she's unwilling to consider anyway). I am leaving it in their hands. Without a power of attorney in place, we certainly can't require that she have a home health care aide.

My brothers and I have discussed the idea of seeking a power of attorney from her, but of course that would entail her cooperation. Some realization that she is no longer capable of facilitating her own affairs would have to occur, which would require insight. Insight is what is in short supply here. But for this inability, she probably would have awarded power of attorney to one of us (or several of us, jointly) long ago.

I had dinner with J. last week, and while he seems to be deeply invested in the idea that she is just doing what any slightly eccentric old lady might do under the circumstances, he is at least beginning to succeed at forming a better picture of my current point of view. If any logistical progress can be made with her at this point, it is he who must be the front line. (Not only is he the only one who still sees her, but he lives closeby to where she is camping. My other brother M., who lives a thousand miles away, has been fabulously detached from her for over a decade, having attended to his own needs through therapy while still being supportive of me. And I, in terms of actual physical contact with her, am "off this dance floor" until or unless major progress occurs).

I did that thankless front-line job for over ten years, and neither she nor I have a thing to show for it (other than the very real possibility that the mere attention, both positive and negative, in the absence of any real progress itself, fulfilled her narcissistic needs). I often wish for those hundreds of hours back, as they facilitated no progress and quite possibly served to only enable her in not taking responsibility for herself. There are few things less rewarding than trying to push a rope uphill.