Wingman: Escorting My Father to a Death with Dignity by Daniel Zimberoff is a profoundly moving memoir that serves as both a heartfelt tribute and a gentle guide through one of life's most difficult journeys. Daniel invites us into his intimate role as his father's "wingman"—standing by his side as his dad, facing terminal illness, chooses Medical Assistance in Dying (MAID) to end his suffering on his own terms. Through honest, unflinching storytelling, Daniel honors not just his father's courageous decision, but the full arc of his life. If you've never walked this path with a loved one, Daniel's vivid, compassionate narrative helps you truly imagine it—the conversations, the emotions, the mix of grief and peace. Even if you have faced end-of-life choices, you'll find resonance in his reflections on dignity, autonomy, and what it means to love someone through their final act. This isn't just a story about dying—it's about living fully until the end, and about the quiet bravery required to support someone else's choices. Highly recommended for anyone grappling with these questions or seeking understanding.
I had an opportunity to read this book before it was published in exchange for an honest review. I found this book wonderful for its honesty. The MAID process that the author’s father took advantage of to end his life on his own terms while facing the decline from Parkinson’s was really explained and made real through the accounts of how the different family members reacted differently to the decision. I am currently on hospice care and I felt like this book did a wonderful job of demonstrating the complex emotions that are involved in a slow death. I also found the book very readable and read it in just two sittings. I would absolutely recommend this book to anyone who is interested in the process of MAID or just wants a good read that is an honest portrayal of the messiness of real life and real death
Wingman is a book I didn’t expect to hit me so hard. The writing is strong, yes, but it’s the emotional intelligence behind it that makes the book stand apart. Zimberoff captures the psychological landscape of a caregiver's hope, guilt, exhaustion, and tenderness in a way that feels deeply lived. You feel the years of history between father and son in every chapter.
The second paragraph of the book’s emotional arc absolutely broke me. There is something profoundly human about watching someone try to do right by a parent while simultaneously wrestling with their own limitations. The memoir doesn’t offer easy answers, but it doesn’t need to. What it offers instead is honesty, love, and a kind of quiet bravery that lingers long after the last page.
This book pulled me in from the first page and held me all the way to the end. Zimberoff writes with clarity and courage about the emotional, ethical, and logistical complexities of helping a parent choose their own ending. It’s not sensationalized or exaggerated, just raw, reflective truth. I found myself underlining sentences that felt like they had been pulled directly from my own fears.
In the second half of the book, the emotional intensity deepens in a way that feels almost cinematic. The descriptions of the final days are honest but never exploitative. This is a story about love, but also about boundaries, agency, and acceptance. I walked away feeling like I had been given a gift: permission to question, to feel, and to confront the end of life with grace.
Wingman explains the topic in detail. Wonderful word choices that kept the story moving. I enjoyed reading the early chapters that reveal his father's personality -- very well written! As an author, reader, psychologist and educator, I learned more on this topic by reading Mr. Zimberoff's book. For those seeking information on dying with dignity as an option, this book serves as a great start -- giving the reader much to think about. It'll serve as a starting point for further research.
“Wingman” left me speechless in the best possible way. Daniel Zimberoff captures the raw, intimate terrain between love, duty, and unbearable loss with astonishing clarity. This isn’t just a memoir, it’s a deeply humane guide to what it means to accompany someone you love to the edge of life. I cried, I learned, and I felt profoundly changed. It’s the kind of book that stays in your heart and reshapes how you see your relationships.
This book made me reconsider everything I thought I knew about dignity, caregiving, and the right to die. The honesty with which Zimberoff writes about his father’s decline is both painful and beautiful. It’s rare to read something that feels this real. By the end, I felt like I had gone through the journey with them, and it left me grateful for the truth he shared.
This is a touching story of a family's grappling with death and the question when is life worth living. The sincerity and complexity of emotions stays with you long after reading the story. I am very grateful to Dan for finding the strength to write about his father's decision to be in control of ending his life and raise awareness of MAID. It's a book I would highly recommend.
This is the kind of book that teaches you something about being human. About love. About letting go. The emotional courage in these pages is astonishing, and the storytelling is impeccable. It reminded me that even the most painful journeys can carry moments of grace.