Like in the childhood game, “telephone,” the first call came from the neighbor across the street, who called the son in Texas who, in turn, called his sister in New Mexico, who, in turn, called me, the eldercare consultant in New Rochelle.

It seems the neighbor across the street observed their eighty-two-year-old mother taking her garbage to the curb. How, she inquired of the son, could he and his sister be so neglectful, not her words exactly, it was more the tone of her voice. I imagine, the neighbor was trying to be helpful. Given the adult children’s geographic distance, perhaps she thought they were not aware of what was taking place during these thrice weekly jaunts to the curb. The truth be known, the son and daughter had been trying, unsuccessfully, for over a year to persuade their mother to just give a companion a try. Just a try.

Despite hints of early dementia, the mother was readily able to reiterate to her children all the reasons for not wanting anyone coming to her house. To start, she was not having difficulty managing on her own. Regarding her shopping needs, what she was not able to pick up in the supermarket, there was a COVID volunteer from her local church she could count on. A companion would interfere with her privacy. Hinging on that, she had her sentimental belongings throughout the house, and she was certain they would disappear within a week of the companion’s arrival. And so, it was with this background that a daughter, undaunted by her mother’s past refusals, called this eldercare consultant, confident that what she and her brother were unable to do, I could accomplish.

With the weight of the adult children and the neighbor accompanying me to her house, I met with the mother. She was welcoming and showed me around her home. I was slightly suspicious. Tours usually come after a client gets to know me. Perhaps the unsolicited tour was to make a point about her capabilities or maybe she was just being hospitable. With the sightseeing out of the way, we got down to the reason for my visit. Mom was well rehearsed. She conveyed to me all the same reasons she had shared with her children.

This type of resistance is not unusual, as an eldercare consultant I have come across it repeatedly. The mother recognized that accepting help brings with it relinquishing privacy and adjusting to a new routine. She saw it as a sign of weakness to acquiesce. What she was indifferent to, was a little bit of help could go a long way to ensuring her continued safety and longevity in her home.

While empathizing with each of the mother’s reasons for refusing help, I used one of my tried-and-true strategies. “Give it a try, just for a few weeks,” Not a budge. “How about if you think about it?” I asked. Affirmative. And with that I said I would give her a call in a few weeks.

“I’m happy you didn’t forget about me,” she said two weeks later. In the same breath, she said she would be in touch with me when the time was right. Will the time ever be right I thought to myself? Or will the next call be from the daughter, all her mother’s excuses banished, replaced with an urgent request for help.