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House on Beartown Road: A Memoir of Learning and Forgetting: A Memoir of Learning and Forgetting
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A deeply moving and important book for our time, The House on Beartown Road adds an unforgettable chapter to our understanding of life, family, and Alzheimer's disease. A writer for an upstate New York newspaper, Elizabeth Cohen was living out her fantasy, snug in a cozy home in the quiet countryside with her newborn daughter and her husband, a talented artist. Life was good. Then came a call from her sister, who had been living with their parents. "Please," she pleads. "Take Daddy."
A deeply moving and important book for our time, The House on Beartown Road adds an unforgettable chapter to our understanding of life, family, and Alzheimer's disease. A writer for an upstate New York newspaper, Elizabeth Cohen was living out her fantasy, snug in a cozy home in the quiet countryside with her newborn daughter and her husband, a talented artist. Life was good. Then came a call from her sister, who had been living with their parents. "Please," she pleads. "Take Daddy."
Daddy, it turns out, has Alzheimer's. Formerly a heralded economist and professor, he now has difficulty remembering how to use a phone. Elizabeth agrees to the new arrangement, but two months after her father arrives, her husband leaves. So begins the winter of her life.
For several months, Elizabeth holds down her job while caring for both her baby and her father -- despite blizzards, stomach bugs, and a house falling into disrepair. She watches, amazed, as her daughter learns things and her father forgets them. Elizabeth tries to ward off his illness with foods and mental games, but her father looks at her earnestly and says, "I am not sure who you are, or why you have been so nice to me." Cohen's editor, Katie Hall, has said that The House on Beartown Road might be the best book she's ever edited. It's not hard to understand why.
(Spring 2003 Selection)
Audiobook
First published April 1, 2003
15 people are currently reading
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About the author
Elizabeth Cohen
22 books25 followersElizabeth Cohen is an Assistant Professor of English at SUNY Plattsburgh, where she serves as the fiction editor for the Saranac Review. Her memoir, The Family on Beartown Road (Random House, 2003), was a New York Times Notable Book, and her articles, stories, and poetry have appeared in SELF, MORE, Newsweek, People, New York Times Magazine, Salon, Tablet, and the Yale Review, among other publications.
She lives in Plattsburgh, New York, with her daughter, Ava and way, way too many cats.
She lives in Plattsburgh, New York, with her daughter, Ava and way, way too many cats.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 98 reviews
September 9, 2020
This memoir caught my eye because of the consistently positive reviews. Although I’d merely skimmed them, all the stars made an impression and I proceeded to Amazon. When it arrived and I became aware of the content, however, I began to have second thoughts. Elizabeth Cohen is a journalist with impressive credentials, and here she presents a moving, honest account of her life as a single mom with a very young child while caring for her father in advancing stages of Alzheimer’s. Their living arrangement brings its own challenges, as their home is very rural, in upstate New York. As their address implies, there really are bears nearby. Here she muses that this might be a good thing. One gets the flavor of her winsome approach to this very challenging situation!
‘The idea of bears here, on Beartown Road, is pleasant. They are my gentle, non-judging neighbors. I consider them my friends. I think of them now, because our isolation is suddenly kind of scary and I need to believe in a benevolent someone nearby. The house is the last house on the road, surrounded by fields overgrown with tall, brown weeds. We are miles from the nearest convenience store.’
Although I was initially squeamish about reading an account of a loved one with a deteriorating Alzheimer’s condition, I came to find this enjoyable and thought provoking. Through her considerable writing skills, the author expresses the irony and joy to be found in her recurring struggles. Constantly fascinating for her is the realization that daughter Ava and Daddy are on opposite ends of the life’s learning curve – a ‘parabola’.. The prevailing uphill battle, the author’s intrinsic humor, together with small satisfactions of daily life combine to yield a quiet treasure. It’s easy to agree with the stars!
‘The idea of bears here, on Beartown Road, is pleasant. They are my gentle, non-judging neighbors. I consider them my friends. I think of them now, because our isolation is suddenly kind of scary and I need to believe in a benevolent someone nearby. The house is the last house on the road, surrounded by fields overgrown with tall, brown weeds. We are miles from the nearest convenience store.’
Although I was initially squeamish about reading an account of a loved one with a deteriorating Alzheimer’s condition, I came to find this enjoyable and thought provoking. Through her considerable writing skills, the author expresses the irony and joy to be found in her recurring struggles. Constantly fascinating for her is the realization that daughter Ava and Daddy are on opposite ends of the life’s learning curve – a ‘parabola’.. The prevailing uphill battle, the author’s intrinsic humor, together with small satisfactions of daily life combine to yield a quiet treasure. It’s easy to agree with the stars!
October 29, 2010
Author Elizabeth Cohen mines a remarkable trove of material in this wonderful memoir. The juxtaposition of herself at 40, with her newborn child, and her 80 year old Alzheimer’s ravished father – all living together in a drafty old house in upstate New York, and freshly abandoned by Cohen’s husband – could be tragic, but it’s not.
Instead, she brings forward the bittersweet joy of seeing her baby’s mind load up with new connections and words as her father sheds his. Also, of the string of Alzheimer’s themed books I’ve recently read, this one best captures an Alzheimer’s patient’s capricious and sometimes beautiful paraphrasing, misstating, and invention of words and memories. Cohen says she wrote the book determined to keep “a sharp orange flare of Daddy” alive in her own daughter’s memories, for Cohen knows experiences from a child’s baby and toddlerhood rarely last in memory.
The author gave her daughter, and all who read this book, a fine written account of the grandfather "who built a fire to keep her warm when she was sick; who said 'Hi there, little guy,' every time she entered a room. Who loved her so completely, although he never learned her name.” But additionally, this book is about what matters and what Cohen learned from her own growing up, late marriage, parenthood, and art.
Instead, she brings forward the bittersweet joy of seeing her baby’s mind load up with new connections and words as her father sheds his. Also, of the string of Alzheimer’s themed books I’ve recently read, this one best captures an Alzheimer’s patient’s capricious and sometimes beautiful paraphrasing, misstating, and invention of words and memories. Cohen says she wrote the book determined to keep “a sharp orange flare of Daddy” alive in her own daughter’s memories, for Cohen knows experiences from a child’s baby and toddlerhood rarely last in memory.
The author gave her daughter, and all who read this book, a fine written account of the grandfather "who built a fire to keep her warm when she was sick; who said 'Hi there, little guy,' every time she entered a room. Who loved her so completely, although he never learned her name.” But additionally, this book is about what matters and what Cohen learned from her own growing up, late marriage, parenthood, and art.
August 13, 2018
Loved this memoir of being caught in the 'sandwich generation'. The author has a new baby when her father who has Alzheimer's Disease comes to live with her. Her husband decides he cant handle it and moves out. She is in the country so has to handle all kinds of disasters. I love how her neighbors helped out. She doesn't think she is a strong person but she really is. Through the whole book I wondered why she didn't just put her father in a nursing home but she did the best she could and I'm sure she didn't regret a single thing. I think anyone taking care of elderly parents would love this book. The only thing I didn't like is that she didn't let us know what happened with the husband.
June 1, 2012
The Family on Beartown Road is a beautiful, heartbreaking memoir of a staggeringly painful and difficult year in the life of a family. At the center of this family, holding it all together as she herself struggles not to fall apart, is the author, Elizabeth Cohen.
"The book begins with the following series of numbers: 0-40-80. These numbers represent the ages of the three main characters: Cohen's daughter Ava, herself, and her father, who has Alzheimer's disease:
I celebrated all my daughter's firsts. Likewise, I had to mourn all my father's losses. There were numerous coincidences. She said "Mama" ont he same day he first asked me who I was. She said "Baby Aba"--her name is Ava--the same week we received our census and my father looked for a long time at the form before asking me his own name."
Throughout the narrative, Cohen exams the steps that brought her to her current situation. In a fit of romantic idealism, Cohen, a journalist, and her husband, an artist, had moved to rural, upstate New York from New York City to raise their daughter. For a while, life was very sweet, indeed.
At the book's outset, however, the shit has hit the fan. Cohen's father has moved in with them and her husband has deserted them. And then winter comes. Cohen, the sole breadwinner, cook, and bottle washer, quickly slips into survival mode, which mostly entails struggling to keep her infant child and aging father from hurting themselves. Dealing with an active toddler or an aging parent on your own is more than enough for one person to handle, but dealing with them both at the same time seems nearly impossible from the outside looking in and yet, over time, Cohen manages. Part of how she manages is by accepting help from neighbors, coworkers, and far-flung friends. Mostly, though, what she does is live in the moment and accept the tender mercies all around her:
"I must admit that, while the management of day-to-day affairs can seem impossible, things are sometimes pleasant. I think of our lives as something akin to the way that people in covered wagons might have felt. Exhausted, scared, but grateful for certain moments. We take pleasure in small things. Daddy likes the smell of coffee brewing. Ava likes to blow bubbles with her saliva while mouthing the word "Mama." I like to sit int he kitchen with the two of them, eating, cleaning up around them, feeling like I have a bit of control. That they are getting nourishment. That I am doing something right."
Even if you have never been a caretaker of the young, the aged, or the infirm, I'm certain this book will resonate for you because at the core, there is a beating heart and a voice--Cohen's own, strong, clear voice--that will remind you not to take for granted how very much you have right now, living in this moment.
"The book begins with the following series of numbers: 0-40-80. These numbers represent the ages of the three main characters: Cohen's daughter Ava, herself, and her father, who has Alzheimer's disease:
I celebrated all my daughter's firsts. Likewise, I had to mourn all my father's losses. There were numerous coincidences. She said "Mama" ont he same day he first asked me who I was. She said "Baby Aba"--her name is Ava--the same week we received our census and my father looked for a long time at the form before asking me his own name."
Throughout the narrative, Cohen exams the steps that brought her to her current situation. In a fit of romantic idealism, Cohen, a journalist, and her husband, an artist, had moved to rural, upstate New York from New York City to raise their daughter. For a while, life was very sweet, indeed.
At the book's outset, however, the shit has hit the fan. Cohen's father has moved in with them and her husband has deserted them. And then winter comes. Cohen, the sole breadwinner, cook, and bottle washer, quickly slips into survival mode, which mostly entails struggling to keep her infant child and aging father from hurting themselves. Dealing with an active toddler or an aging parent on your own is more than enough for one person to handle, but dealing with them both at the same time seems nearly impossible from the outside looking in and yet, over time, Cohen manages. Part of how she manages is by accepting help from neighbors, coworkers, and far-flung friends. Mostly, though, what she does is live in the moment and accept the tender mercies all around her:
"I must admit that, while the management of day-to-day affairs can seem impossible, things are sometimes pleasant. I think of our lives as something akin to the way that people in covered wagons might have felt. Exhausted, scared, but grateful for certain moments. We take pleasure in small things. Daddy likes the smell of coffee brewing. Ava likes to blow bubbles with her saliva while mouthing the word "Mama." I like to sit int he kitchen with the two of them, eating, cleaning up around them, feeling like I have a bit of control. That they are getting nourishment. That I am doing something right."
Even if you have never been a caretaker of the young, the aged, or the infirm, I'm certain this book will resonate for you because at the core, there is a beating heart and a voice--Cohen's own, strong, clear voice--that will remind you not to take for granted how very much you have right now, living in this moment.
October 9, 2018
The ending sentences of this memoir are absolute perfection. Elizabeth tells her whole story with courage, grit and poetry perfectly mixed together. As she cares for an aging parent and a young child, she never looks for sympathy from those around her or her readers. Instead, she intersperses moments of beauty in days that could have been pure drudgery. She accepts what is and isn’t with more humility than I could ever have mustered. Plus she has such gorgeous mastery of language; adding just the right amount of careful detail. Guess you can tell that I’m a fan. It just took me almost 15 years since publication to read it. Thanks Kristin for the recommendation.
Although I think this book is out of print, I will try to find enough copies for my bookclub to read next year. Might even duplicate the whole damned book if I need to. (Kidding!)
Although I think this book is out of print, I will try to find enough copies for my bookclub to read next year. Might even duplicate the whole damned book if I need to. (Kidding!)
May 3, 2015
The House On Beartown Road is one of those quiet, unobtrusive books that are easily skipped on a bookstore shelf. Its author, Elizabeth Cohen, does not talk about extreme human experience like the Holocaust, child abuse, or rock ‘n roll. Cohen’s subject matter is much more modest — her year as a ‘sandwich’ adult, caught in the middle between simultaneously and singlehandedly caring for a baby daughter and an Alzheimer’s father, all while working full-time. We read of peeing and pooping accidents, mac and cheese dinners, and mounting piles of garbage. Dialog is often at the level of a toddler.
This mundaneness is part of the appeal of Cohen’s lovely memoir. Her struggle is familiar to millions of families, and thus her truth transcends its moment into a more universal dimension. Regardless, anyone who appreciates fine writing should read Cohen’s modest book. She renders her ordeal with a gentle touch and lyrical eye for detail — and remarkable humanity.
Cohen was a 40-year-old journalist in rural New York when her life turned upside-down. Already stretched thin by the birth of her daughter Ava, she took on the responsibility of caring for her aging father after his diagnosis of Alzheimer’s, the disease that erodes memory. But nine weeks after Daddy moves into Cohen’s house, her husband abandons the marriage. Suddenly alone with a one-year-old and an 80-year-old, and with winter imminent, Cohen is rapidly overwhelmed by her reconfigured family, much like her isolated house becomes imprisoned by the mounting snowdrifts.
“I sometimes feel I hardly exist,” she writes. “If I existed, truly, in any important or significant way, then how could my husband have left me?” During one particularly rough patch, an intestinal bug leaves her, Daddy, and Ava all shitting and puking for thirty-five straight hours. But even as her cats lick up Daddy’s vomit, Cohen somehow finds perspective. “I am thinking this must be as bad as life can get, but then I see the late-night news — there's a flood in Mozambique.”
As Cohen goes through the usual stages of grief, anger, victimhood, and depression, neighbors buttress her often faltering spirit. They secretly plough her driveway and leave food packages on her porch. By springtime, having survived “[t]he hardest winter of my life” (224), Cohen recognizes that which her neighbors had already told her — she is a strong woman. Her concept of family also evolved. “Now I think of family as the people who stick by you, the ones who are there when you go through things.”
The House On Beartown Road is primarily a memoir of family. Cohen structures it as a story of the human mind in three of its stages — the near vertical learning curve of her baby daughter Ava, her own midlife of the mind that both learned and forgot, and the sieve-like memory of her father in mid-to-late Alzheimer’s. On the same day Ava said Mama for the first time, Daddy asked Cohen for the first time who she was. “Our situation, connected by blood, by memory, and by circumstance, gave rise to the most shining example I have ever seen of the human mind’s course, as it winds through the territory of a life.”
This highly original structure accords an unusual role for language. Cohen contrasts her baby's emerging vocabulary with the shrinking vocabulary of Daddy. For a while, Ava and Daddy have a meeting of the minds, in that they operate at the same intellectual level. Cohen, feeling excluded, briefly envies their connection. Ava eventually surpasses her grandfather in language ability. But Cohen, with typical eloquence, celebrates the gift that Daddy bequeathed his granddaughter during their few months of wordplay and games. “Instead of thinking about him losing the abilities to speak, to walk, and to negotiate the world, I like to think he has given them to her.”
However, it is the relationship between Cohen and her father that takes center stage — and which most affirms her literary talent. She had always been much closer to him than her emotionally stunted mother, who initially stays at the marital home in New Mexico and remains in denial about her husband’s Alzheimer’s throughout the book. But the disintegration of Daddy’s brain gradually erases his bond with his daughter. He increasingly sees her as a potential lover, and even kisses her as such.
Cohen experiences further loss when Daddy moves into a nearby nursing home, at the insistence of his wife. Mommy had finally joined him in New York, but she quickly tired of living at Cohen’s house. Then comes one of the many small triumphs celebrated in The House On Beartown Road. One day Cohen visits her parents at the care facility. Daddy, although in a semistupor, looks up and unexpectedly greets her in the manner she has craved for almost a year. “My daughter,” he said. “Where on earth…?”
Beyond memory loss, Alzheimer’s robs its victims of dignity. The disease reduces Cohen’s father — a retired professor — to sifting through garbage, wearing underwear over his pants, and endless tantrums. Yet Cohen finds beauty amidst the tragedy. She hears poetry in Daddy’s pared vocabulary, as when he calls Ava ‘the one that fills the room with hurricanes’ or refers to toast as ‘singed bread.’ In her eye the strand of drool hanging from Daddy’s lip is a “thread with a dewdrop at the bottom.” Cohen’s lovely imagery will surely touch the heart of anyone who has cared for an aged relative. And her literary voice — blending reflection, painful honesty, and understated humor — is perfectly tuned for her difficult subject matter.
In seeking meaning in 'normal' daily life that is universally familiar, Cohen has crafted a Memoir For The Common Man. She shows us that even the mundane can be interesting and meaningful, and even beautiful.
The House On Beartown Road also has a socio-political message. Cohen draws attention to the societal impacts of Alzheimer's, a disease that is predicted to quickly reach epidemic proportions and cripple U.S. health care. “An army of the forgetful is about to march on the whole country, and nobody seems much concerned about it.” The elderly must spend down their savings to get care aid. At-home care is woefully underfunded by government, and prohibitively expensive for the middle-class likes of Cohen.
The book ends with a couple of surprises, one of which might trouble feminist readers. But this is yet another reason to read Cohen’s memoir. Beyond exquisite prose and unquenchable spirit, her view of family, while grounded in the familiar, is fresh and insightful.
The House On Beartown Road is a singularly fine literary achievement, especially for a first book. So while everyone else lives vicariously through best-seller memoirs like ‘Life’ and ‘Eat, Pray, Love,’ go back to the bookstore and search again for Elizabeth Cohen’s quiet masterwork about a life we might all have to live.
This mundaneness is part of the appeal of Cohen’s lovely memoir. Her struggle is familiar to millions of families, and thus her truth transcends its moment into a more universal dimension. Regardless, anyone who appreciates fine writing should read Cohen’s modest book. She renders her ordeal with a gentle touch and lyrical eye for detail — and remarkable humanity.
Cohen was a 40-year-old journalist in rural New York when her life turned upside-down. Already stretched thin by the birth of her daughter Ava, she took on the responsibility of caring for her aging father after his diagnosis of Alzheimer’s, the disease that erodes memory. But nine weeks after Daddy moves into Cohen’s house, her husband abandons the marriage. Suddenly alone with a one-year-old and an 80-year-old, and with winter imminent, Cohen is rapidly overwhelmed by her reconfigured family, much like her isolated house becomes imprisoned by the mounting snowdrifts.
“I sometimes feel I hardly exist,” she writes. “If I existed, truly, in any important or significant way, then how could my husband have left me?” During one particularly rough patch, an intestinal bug leaves her, Daddy, and Ava all shitting and puking for thirty-five straight hours. But even as her cats lick up Daddy’s vomit, Cohen somehow finds perspective. “I am thinking this must be as bad as life can get, but then I see the late-night news — there's a flood in Mozambique.”
As Cohen goes through the usual stages of grief, anger, victimhood, and depression, neighbors buttress her often faltering spirit. They secretly plough her driveway and leave food packages on her porch. By springtime, having survived “[t]he hardest winter of my life” (224), Cohen recognizes that which her neighbors had already told her — she is a strong woman. Her concept of family also evolved. “Now I think of family as the people who stick by you, the ones who are there when you go through things.”
The House On Beartown Road is primarily a memoir of family. Cohen structures it as a story of the human mind in three of its stages — the near vertical learning curve of her baby daughter Ava, her own midlife of the mind that both learned and forgot, and the sieve-like memory of her father in mid-to-late Alzheimer’s. On the same day Ava said Mama for the first time, Daddy asked Cohen for the first time who she was. “Our situation, connected by blood, by memory, and by circumstance, gave rise to the most shining example I have ever seen of the human mind’s course, as it winds through the territory of a life.”
This highly original structure accords an unusual role for language. Cohen contrasts her baby's emerging vocabulary with the shrinking vocabulary of Daddy. For a while, Ava and Daddy have a meeting of the minds, in that they operate at the same intellectual level. Cohen, feeling excluded, briefly envies their connection. Ava eventually surpasses her grandfather in language ability. But Cohen, with typical eloquence, celebrates the gift that Daddy bequeathed his granddaughter during their few months of wordplay and games. “Instead of thinking about him losing the abilities to speak, to walk, and to negotiate the world, I like to think he has given them to her.”
However, it is the relationship between Cohen and her father that takes center stage — and which most affirms her literary talent. She had always been much closer to him than her emotionally stunted mother, who initially stays at the marital home in New Mexico and remains in denial about her husband’s Alzheimer’s throughout the book. But the disintegration of Daddy’s brain gradually erases his bond with his daughter. He increasingly sees her as a potential lover, and even kisses her as such.
Cohen experiences further loss when Daddy moves into a nearby nursing home, at the insistence of his wife. Mommy had finally joined him in New York, but she quickly tired of living at Cohen’s house. Then comes one of the many small triumphs celebrated in The House On Beartown Road. One day Cohen visits her parents at the care facility. Daddy, although in a semistupor, looks up and unexpectedly greets her in the manner she has craved for almost a year. “My daughter,” he said. “Where on earth…?”
Beyond memory loss, Alzheimer’s robs its victims of dignity. The disease reduces Cohen’s father — a retired professor — to sifting through garbage, wearing underwear over his pants, and endless tantrums. Yet Cohen finds beauty amidst the tragedy. She hears poetry in Daddy’s pared vocabulary, as when he calls Ava ‘the one that fills the room with hurricanes’ or refers to toast as ‘singed bread.’ In her eye the strand of drool hanging from Daddy’s lip is a “thread with a dewdrop at the bottom.” Cohen’s lovely imagery will surely touch the heart of anyone who has cared for an aged relative. And her literary voice — blending reflection, painful honesty, and understated humor — is perfectly tuned for her difficult subject matter.
In seeking meaning in 'normal' daily life that is universally familiar, Cohen has crafted a Memoir For The Common Man. She shows us that even the mundane can be interesting and meaningful, and even beautiful.
The House On Beartown Road also has a socio-political message. Cohen draws attention to the societal impacts of Alzheimer's, a disease that is predicted to quickly reach epidemic proportions and cripple U.S. health care. “An army of the forgetful is about to march on the whole country, and nobody seems much concerned about it.” The elderly must spend down their savings to get care aid. At-home care is woefully underfunded by government, and prohibitively expensive for the middle-class likes of Cohen.
The book ends with a couple of surprises, one of which might trouble feminist readers. But this is yet another reason to read Cohen’s memoir. Beyond exquisite prose and unquenchable spirit, her view of family, while grounded in the familiar, is fresh and insightful.
The House On Beartown Road is a singularly fine literary achievement, especially for a first book. So while everyone else lives vicariously through best-seller memoirs like ‘Life’ and ‘Eat, Pray, Love,’ go back to the bookstore and search again for Elizabeth Cohen’s quiet masterwork about a life we might all have to live.
December 12, 2018
The author has her first baby at the age of 40. She works full-time as a newspaper reporter, married to an artist. Everything is fine, but life gets complicated when her 80 year-old father, who has Alzheimer’s, comes to live with her. And then her husband runs off with -- get this -- a teenage girl. Now she has to care for a newborn and an Alzheimer’s patient all by herself. If she had shot her husband, there wouldn’t be a jury in the world who would’ve convicted her.
December 30, 2019
A book to remember. It made me laugh and cry, all the best ingredients for a good book. Highly recommended.
Read
February 5, 2015I think this is my fourth reading of Beartown Road, and I loved it just as much this time. Such a beautiful journey about love, language, and family in all its challenges and victories. The devastation of Alzheimer's Disease is balanced by the beauty of a toddler discovering life. Such a brave story.
A disclaimer for my faith-based friends: the author does not write from a religious world-view, but many of the people in her life are obviously Christians and she presents them well.
A disclaimer for my faith-based friends: the author does not write from a religious world-view, but many of the people in her life are obviously Christians and she presents them well.
November 14, 2017
Just loved this beautiful memoir of a year spent as a single mom to a baby and a solo caretaker to a father with Alzheimer's. Most people would have just seen the drudgery of constant caretaking and trying to manage the basics of life, or been consumed by their bitterness. But this author turned ordinary life into poetry.
April 10, 2009
Very well written!
August 10, 2014
A beautiful story of family.
April 28, 2025
I think the writing of this book was the author’s personal therapy. Whether it was frustration with her sister, her mother, or her husband….it all came through loud and clear but those feelings were all valid. I was frustrated with them as well. The love she had for her daughter and father was constant though. Did it bother me that she referred to him as Daddy the entire time? Yes, I’ve never liked hearing an adult woman calling their father Daddy rather than Dad. I also had issues with the way some situations were handled but those were also personal preferences. There was plenty I did enjoy but overall, I don’t think I’d recommend this one. The exception might be for someone who is also taking care of a loved one with dementia or Alzheimer’s and wants another person’s perspective and insight. They’d probably be better off with an actual support group though.
October 2, 2017
For anyone
Struggling with a family member with Alzheimer's, this is s great read. Actually it's just a good read. The authors father has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. The author, Elizabeth Cohen, her husband and their new baby have bought an old home in the mountains somewhere in New York . They've moved from
New Mexico. Just as they had gotten settled Elizabeth's
Mother calls her and tells her she needs to
Come and pick
Up
Her father. He's doing things that aren't normal
And she can't handle him
Elizabeth's husband has left her, daddy moves in . She finds herself in the 'Sandwich generation '
This is funny yet sad
Especially if you've had experience with Alzheimer's
Struggling with a family member with Alzheimer's, this is s great read. Actually it's just a good read. The authors father has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. The author, Elizabeth Cohen, her husband and their new baby have bought an old home in the mountains somewhere in New York . They've moved from
New Mexico. Just as they had gotten settled Elizabeth's
Mother calls her and tells her she needs to
Come and pick
Up
Her father. He's doing things that aren't normal
And she can't handle him
Elizabeth's husband has left her, daddy moves in . She finds herself in the 'Sandwich generation '
This is funny yet sad
Especially if you've had experience with Alzheimer's
December 1, 2023
I highly recommend this book to anyone dealing with being the sole caregiver for a parent suffering from Alzheimer’s, dementia or other memory loss issues. The author describes her experiences with such honesty and authenticity, it is comforting to know you are not alone in feeling the many emotions that go with having caregiver responsibilities for an aging parent. Add to the mix that at the same time the author is raising a young toddler, and her husband has abandoned the family. I appreciate her observation that at the same time her daughter was learning new words, her well educated, former professor father was losing his. Touching, well written memoir.
August 27, 2022
What a memoir this is! Elizabeth is sandwiched between Baby Ava and Daddy Sanford, who is struggling with Alzheimer's. Elizabeth struggles to tend to both "babies." As Ava learns new words, her father loses his words. In a poignant recollection, Ava shows Grandpa with utensil to use (a fork), and he patiently teaches her how to properly use it. Anyone who is dealing with parents or spouses with dementia or Alzheimer's ought to read this book.
May 11, 2024
Elizabeth Cohen finds herself as both mother to her new baby and caregiver for her father as he slowly fades into the cloudy world of Alzheimer's disease. It was a crazy, exhausting experience especially as her husband had just left her (with the baby and her dad) in an old farmhouse on a remote road in an area where she knew no one.
No spoilers...the story that she weaves is so good and honest and heartbreaking and funny. I couldn't put it down.
No spoilers...the story that she weaves is so good and honest and heartbreaking and funny. I couldn't put it down.
February 10, 2019
What would it be like to be a single Mom who is the sole caregiver for both her toddler and her father who suffers from Alzheimers disease? Cohen''s memoir accurately, sensitively and with wry humor explores her child's learning in contrast to her father's forgetting. Writing from this point of view, Cohen offers a fresh view of a timely issue. I loved this amazing book.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
December 28, 2021
A moving memoir of life caught in the suffering and the joy between the two extremes of life and human experience. The beginning of life and all the potential and amazing changes, and the losses and changes that happen as life wanes. As the subtitle professes, it is truly a memoir of love and courage.
February 18, 2023
Someone on Goodreads says the characters lack development....Jeez: I developed reading this brilliantly executed piece. This book makes you LAUGH out loud. In 2023, it makes you LAUGH. And appreciate the good with the bad in a real way. The only reason I'm at peace having missed this book all these years (it was published long ago) is that I lived long enough to read it and love it now.
August 12, 2018
Chose this title because it was written by a local author, about our area, and it's a memoir, which I really enjoy. Read this in bigger gulps - I could empathize with her journey as a mother and about those cold, cold winters.
Read
September 25, 2018The author, Elizabeth (Beth) is in the sandwich generation: a 2 year old daughter &
her father, who has Alzheimer's, & lives with her. Her husband left her.
I enjoyed this book but I was so glad that I was not in her shoes. Maybe you are.
her father, who has Alzheimer's, & lives with her. Her husband left her.
I enjoyed this book but I was so glad that I was not in her shoes. Maybe you are.
March 11, 2019
The story here is very sweet and you grow to like the main characters. That being said, there is a lack of character development and nothing really happens in the book. Considering the plot line, maybe that’s the point?
June 1, 2019
I'd never heard the term "sandwich generation" but it seems apt for a person who is caring for both an infant and a Alzheimer's parent, simultaneously. Told in a way that almost anyone can enjoy, and you should.
March 22, 2021
I have very complicated feelings about this book. Having experienced the pain of caring for parents with Alzheimer’s, it has been a pretty painful read. It is well done and beautiful. Yet, it brought back so many distressing memories. She has captured the feelings so well!
June 19, 2024
Elizabeth Cohen gives us a stark, honest, loving, exhausting real time account of her life with a baby and father in decline. It was happy, sad, sweet and bitter. I couldn’t set it down. I love that she shared this with us.
August 19, 2018
Sweet memoir of raising a newborn at the same time as caring for a parent with Alzheimer’s.
November 5, 2018
A lesson on adapting or trying to....for we are all humans.
June 13, 2019
Loved this book! Heartwarming, funny, and sad.
October 27, 2019
Exquisite.
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