Wingman: Escorting My Father To A Death With Dignity

by Daniel Zimberoff

FROM A DYING WISH COMES A STORY NAVIGATING THE EMOTIONAL TERRAIN THAT LIES BETWEEN AUTONOMY, DUTY, POWER, AND LOVE.



As Parkinson's Disease attacks his brain and body, David Zimberoff, an uncompromising intellectual who loves his family and has much to live for, fears his downward trajectory will end with him losing his mind and burdening his children. To avoid this torment and ensure he leaves on his terms, David makes the agonizing decision to fly halfway across the globe to end his life with medical assistance. 



His choice begins a journey with his son, Daniel, which exposes past wounds and raises questions on how to live and how to die. Their story explores the transformation of a father and son's relationship and the heart-wrenching issues surrounding assisted dying. Nearing his scheduled death, David faces his greatest can he find the healing and closure both he and Daniel seek before time runs out?  



As more people with terminal illnesses or intolerable suffering grapple with how to end their lives peacefully, this unapologetic memoir sets aside political and religious debates of assisted dying to illustrate that at the root of such a decision is the desire to leave this world with love, grace, and dignity.  

201 pages, Kindle Edition

Published February 3, 2026

Reviews

[Liam Walker · Rating 5 out of 5]

What stayed with me most after finishing this book was how layered and emotionally intricate it is. On the surface, it’s about a son accompanying his father to die with dignity. But underneath, it becomes something much deeper an exploration of identity, control, generational wounds, and what it really means to show up for someone you love when everything feels complicated. Daniel Zimberoff writes with striking honesty, allowing both love and discomfort to exist side by side without trying to resolve them too neatly.

What gives this memoir its power is the history between father and son. His father is not portrayed as simply admirable or flawed, but as both driven, intellectually forceful, sometimes harsh, yet deeply influential. The childhood memories, including moments of pressure and emotional distance, add real weight to Daniel’s role as “wingman.” Supporting his father in his final decision doesn’t feel like a simple act of devotion it feels like a reckoning with a lifetime of shared experiences. The progression of Parkinson’s disease is also handled with quiet devastation, showing not just physical decline but the slow erosion of dignity and self.

By the end, the book leaves you sitting with difficult, unresolved questions rather than easy conclusions. It doesn’t argue it reveals. It asks what it truly means to support someone, where love meets autonomy, and how we navigate letting go. The emotional impact lingers long after the final page, not because it tries to be dramatic, but because it feels deeply real. This is the kind of memoir that stays with you, inviting reflection on your own relationships and what dignity, love, and presence really mean.

[Hannah Brooks · Rating 5 out of 5]

This memoir feels incredibly real almost uncomfortably so at times and that’s exactly what makes it powerful. Daniel Zimberoff doesn’t present a polished, idealized version of his father or their relationship. Instead, he gives us the full picture: the admiration, the fear, the resentment, and ultimately, the love. That honesty pulled me in from the very beginning.
What struck me most was how the story moves between past and present, showing how a complicated childhood and a demanding father shaped the man who would later become his “wingman.” By the time they reach those final moments together, the emotional weight is immense. It’s not just about death it’s about everything that came before it.

[Pat Watt · Rating 2 out of 5]

The first half is mostly describing (dysfunctional) family dynamics. It’s all about the author, too much for my taste. The second half is the details of the author’s father’s demise. Family dynamics are still in play, but it is pretty much like taking your dog to the vet to be put down. All I could think of was “why on earth didn’t he do VSED.” It’s legal in every state and, if you plan properly, you get to die in your own bed with your loved ones around you. Probably because he never thought of, or didn’t know.about, it. And if you don’t know what VSED is, I recommend you learn. Remember Walter Soboloff’s words: “Take care of the old person you will become.”

[Ava Collins · Rating 5 out of 5]

Daniel Zimberoff’s writing feels intimate and reflective, almost like you’re reading someone’s private journal. The childhood memories both warm and painful add so much depth to the story. Moments like the strict lessons, the emotional distance, and even the flashes of anger help you understand the tension that lingers into adulthood.

Because of that, the final journey to Switzerland carries even more weight. It’s not just about honoring a father’s wishes it’s about reconciliation, understanding, and trying to make peace before time runs out. Few books capture that emotional urgency this well.

[Charlotte Powell · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is not just a story about assisted dying it’s a story about a lifetime of relationship compressed into one final journey. The concept of being a “wingman” is beautifully explored, not just as physical support, but as emotional presence during the most vulnerable moment of a person’s life. I appreciated how the book doesn’t try to simplify anything. The father’s desire to live exists right alongside his desire to die, and that contradiction is handled with incredible care. It made me reflect on how complicated love really is, especially within families where history runs deep.

[Mason Carter · Rating 5 out of 5]

What makes this book unforgettable is its emotional complexity. Daniel doesn’t shy away from portraying his father as both inspiring and difficult a man who could mentor strangers with kindness but also be harsh and controlling at home. That duality makes the story feel deeply human rather than one-sided. The sections describing his father’s Parkinson’s decline are especially moving. You feel the contrast between the once unstoppable, fiercely independent man and the fragile figure he becomes. Watching Daniel wrestle with supporting his father’s final decision while processing years of unresolved emotion adds a depth that stayed with me long after I finished.