Mother’s Touch
As a single parent of four mum certainly had a lot on her plate and very little support it being the late 1970s and all. In fact, she was spurned by neighbours, supposed friends and some family for not staying committed to a loveless marriage and an alcoholic husband. How very dare she! I’m grateful she took the brave decision to leave our father and raise us without him.
I must have been about 10, 11 maybe when mum would ask me to give her shoulders a rub to ease the tension brought about by her many struggles in life. Happy to help and chuffed to spend quality time connecting with mum, I remember rubbing my thumbs into her shoulders and we’d both giggle to our toes as she lolled her head, loosened her bones, melting her muscles and pretended she was purring like one of our beloved cats. These were precious moments of love and connection, foundational in our relationship which helped us through inevitable relational mother-daughter ruptures. Mum could run hot and cold emotionally, so any affection was dependent on whether she was in the mood and whether we were “good” children. Looking back, those wee back rubs were times when we spoke about deeper stuff and when we did fall out, it was this trust and ability to reconnect that saw us through. Thing was I had no techniques and no stamina, so the massage would last a few minutes at best. What I know now though is it only takes seconds during a nurturing touch intervention for feelgood hormones such as oxytocin and dopamine to release for both giver and receiver and this I believe positively affected our biology, our relationship.
Fast forward to the late 90s and my partner Rob and I made some life changing decisions. We left our jobs in care in Reading and travelled round Devon and Cornwall in our camper van “Sonny Boy” enjoying a summer of love. After our freedom and fun, we settled on the north coast of Cornwall and I went back to college having obtained a place on an ITEC massage course due to a last-minute cancellation – woohoo! More exciting life changing stuff! During these salty summer days Mum used to revel in coming down to Cornwall where we’d spend time together enjoying the sun, sea and each other’s relaxed company. We relished these golden moments, mum trusting me to practice my massage techniques on her. I recall one time her softly saying as the massage was reaching its end, “I feel so selfish. When you’ve finished, I just want you to go back and start all over again.” It certainly made me think about how important nurturing touch was for her even if she hadn’t always found it easy and this gave her permission to receive nurturing touch in a boundaried way. Something that would pave the way for later on.
Within a few years, having been wooed by the Cornish life we’d made for ourselves, mum fulfilled her new dream and also moved to Cornwall with her husband. Sadly, not long after, she was diagnosed with a mild cognitive impairment (MCI) meaning she had to leave her job working in accounts at a nursing home, where I also worked as a massage therapist treating people who lived with dementia. During this time, mum’s MCI developed into early onset Alzheimer’s, and she started to come and see me regularly for a massage to help with her stress levels. It was a positive and structured way to see her regularly and was where she could confide, seek understanding and we could have sacrosanct space to connect more deeply with each other illustrating conclusions found by Kilstoff and Chenoweth in their study that massage provides connection and improves relationships.
As mum’s dementia progressed, she required more care and for a few years I stepped in to provide respite so her husband could take much-needed holidays or visit family. I would weave nurturing touch techniques into her daily care routines whether I was assisting her with washing, medication or reassuring her in moments of distress especially in the wee small hours when she was particularly disorientated. Much later on in my career, Fung and Tsang’s clinical trial confirmed what I knew in my heart at the time, validating the powerful impact of meeting a person’s needs through therapeutic touch which helped reduce agitation and created an opportunity for improved communication.
Mum’s health inevitably continued to decline and I continued to turn my visits into opportunities to connect with foot massages which incorporated wee pedicures, painting her toenails in the scarlets and golds she always loved. Sometimes depending on where mum was at, I gave her gentle hand massages where she would reciprocate the touch rubbing my hands whispering to me, “that’s better,” fulfilling her need to “mum” and nurture me still. This is underpinned by the Nicholls et al. study, where it emerged that when touch was initiated by carers and family members reciprocity occurred which in turn created positive relational experiences for both people connecting through touch. It really takes the pressure off having to speak when we let our hands do the talking.
In April 2023, mum’s finally needed full time nursing care and she moved to a nursing home. During that time my interventions have become increasingly subtle especially as I wish to be her daughter first rather than her therapist. She doesn’t always recognise me, but she recognises the gentle nurturing touch and trusts me as I talk through any activity we enjoy together. I’ll let my hands gently define her face with a trace of my fingers before using a warm flannel to freshen her skin. My anchor hand gently holds, reassures and conveys love while the other hand applies specialist parental touch techniques we have both come to know so well. It was these techniques that I asked a support worker caring for mum in hospital during the pandemic in April 2020 to employ to enable her to feel cared for in a way she understood. The hospital environment had become so alien and scary in pandemic times that using an ipad to coach the person caring for mum was I believe fundamental in her recovery, but that’s another story!
The other week, mum and I enjoyed some golden time with laughs, giggles and chatter and she voiced a very clear, “mum”. I said, “yes, you’re my mum.” She looked perplexed so I wondered if maybe she thought I was her mum as grandma and I look quite alike so I said, “mum always, love love love,” using parental touch on her face much as a mother would her child. Cue smiles, nods and vocal approval. These feelings last, changing our biochemistry affecting the very essence and core of our being. This was still evident when the time came for me to leave, and I asked if she wanted a hug. Mum smiled as I leant in enjoying it so much we had another. This makes me smile as in mum’s earlier days of her living with dementia she used to hug everyone goodbye at the end of any social gathering, and by the time we went to leave she’d say, “c’mere you,” and we’d hug again her having gotten caught up in the flurry of goodbyes and forgotten we’d hugged already. Typical mum, so greedy for touch. Lucky me, getting twice the hugs!
We’re absolutely wired for nurturing touch us humans. Our neuro-chemistry drives us positively towards connecting through touch to create attachment without words, to build trust and to fulfil the most important of human needs, to belong. How powerful that the sense of touch can lower heart rates and cortisol, engendering feelings of calm and safety. Right doen to the cellular level our bodies crave the welcome the whisper of a caress, of a mother’s touch and her love expressed through her heart and hands, whatever loving context it comes wrapped in.
Warm wishes, Nicolle x
References:
Fung, J.K.K. and Tsang, H.W. (2017). Management of Behavioural and Psychological Symptoms of Dementia by an aroma-massage with Acupressure Treatment protocol: a Randomised Clinical Trial. Journal of Clinical Nursing, 27(9-10), pp.1812–1825. doi:https://doi.org/10.1111/jocn.14101.
Kilstoff, K. and Chenoweth, L. (1998). New Approaches to Health and Well‐being for Dementia Day‐care clients, Family Carers and Day‐care Staff. International Journal of Nursing Practice, 4(2), pp.70–83. doi:https://doi.org/10.1046/j.1440-172x.1998.00059.x.
Nicholls, D., Chang, E., Johnson, A. and Edenborough, M. (2013). Touch, the Essence of Caring for People with end-stage dementia: a Mental Health Perspective in Namaste Care. Aging & Mental Health, 17(5), pp.571–578. doi:https://doi.org/10.1080/13607863.2012.751581.