A tender memoir of fathers and sons, love and loss, and learning to fill boots a size too big.
Dan Robson's father was a builder, a fixer. A man whose high-school education was enough not only to provide for his family, but to build a successful business. Rick Robson held things up. When he dies, nothing in his son's world feels steady anymore. In a very real sense, the home his father had built suddenly seemed fragile. Without its natural caretaker, the house would fall to pieces. And his family shows all the same signs of crumbling.
Dan is hit especially hard. He knows he is not the man his father was. Dan never learned the blue-collar skills he admired, because his father wanted him to pursue his dream of becoming a writer. Now that his father is gone, the acknowledgment of his sacrifices, and the sheer longing to be close to him again in some way draw him to the tools that lie unused in the garage. So begins Dan's year of learning the skills his father's hands had long mastered, and trying to fill the steel-toe boots left behind. Measuring Up is the story of that journey.
Robson picks up where his father left off, working on the house and the truck, as much for the family as for himself. In much the same way that Michael Pollan comes to know his house inside-out in A Place of My Own, Robson learns the mysteries and proud satisfaction of plumbing, carpentry, wiring, and drywalling, and comes to understand how our homes are built. He also comes to see how his home was built by his father, uncovering more than one heartbreaking reminder of the kind of man his father was, and what he meant to his family.
Tender and unflinching, Measuring Up is a story of love, mourning, and learning what it means to be a man.
I never thought I would read a book by a "sports writer" (though I now claim two sports-adjacent books as personal favourites-the other being Barbarian Days by William Finnegan), or really that I would read a contemplative memoir about fathers and sons because it's just not my thing.
I got an advance reader copy of this from the publisher which I am very grateful for and I have only ever cried reading less than a handful of books and I cried no less than five times reading this.
Clearly Dan Robson is a great writer which we all know because of his numerous best sellers but the emotion behind his writing in this book is absolutely incredible.
I don't think I've read a more moving memoir in a very long time. I cannot recommend this book enough, with a hefty caution that it is a very heavy book emotionally.
Thank you the Penguin Random House, Dan Robson, and Indigo for my ARC.
This book very courageously captures the author's journey through grief- and is an exercise of reflection and vulnerability as he (the author) clumsily wields the tools that his father used to build a life for his family.
I couldn't put this book down- the experience of grief, of feeling inadequate, of guilt and of a genuine curiosity resonates so strongly in this beautiful story.
Dan Robson is an excellent sports writer and biographer, and this is the first thing I've read from him that wasn't sports focused. It's a sweet and meditative memoir about coping with the loss of his father. The exploration of masculinity and family roles is so sweet and true. It's a tearjerker for those of us who have also loved and lost parents.
So very well written, honest and relatable. A beautiful story about a son's relationship with his father, the unfillable void and heartache that is left when he passes away, and his son's attempt at connecting with his dad long after. Raw. Vulnerable, captivating and beautiful. A must read!
The author dived deep into the hardest moments of his life, and was completely vulnerable. Anyone who has lost someone can relate to how he felt, and he articulated that pain and struggle so well as he fumbled to figure out his life after loss. Great to see representation of male grief and emotion.
I couldn’t put this book down!! It was so beautifully written.
"Grief is the endless good-bye. But guilt, after death, is different. It's the pain of memory. It's the realization that there are no more chances to make right what you should have in life. People leave forever, but their ghosts linger, at least for a time, in the constant haunting of our minds."
Just finished this brilliant and beautiful book by my RTA Sport Media colleague and friend Dan Robson. This book is not just for fathers and sons, but for mothers and daughters, parent and child...for anyone who has experienced loss, pain, regret and grief. Think Field of Dreams meets Tuesdays with Morrie meets Life As a House....I could see the movie in my mind while reading it...So all you Media Hive - producers and production companies snap up the rights and adapt if for film...If I wasn't so busy I would do it myself!!!! #memoirwriting #griefandloss #griefjourney #resilience #homerenovation #sporttokz #sportmedia #sportjournalism #ryersonuniversity #media #mentalhealth #life #motivation #author
I really enjoyed the trips down memory lane - the going out and finding and interviewing old friends - and girlfriends - and all, but I found that it got bogged down in the sections on home renovation - the actual ‘Measuring Up’ bits that inform the title… and this from a woman who is handy in a work/wood-shop and can totally relate to his observation that ‘destruction is catharsis.’
While his observations of, and lessons about, the nature of grief are important, the most important take-away for any who read this has to be to ask the questions now - don’t wait until it’s too late. Collect the stories - as voice recordings! - while you still can. Share the moments and the memories together, not alone after the fact.
I'm so glad I read this. I originally picked this up for my dad who's been processing through the loss of his father a few years ago and I wanted to read it before I gave him his own copy. I was expecting to gain some insight into someone who's experienced the loss of a parent. What I didn't expect was to see myself, my dad, and my own son in each part of Dan's story.
I'm fortunate my dad is still with me and I don't want to take that for granted. It's got me thinking about how I can support my dad through his grief. How I can connect with him before one of us is gone. How I can make sure my children know who I am and hear my stories.