I don’t want to give a memoir about love, loss, and grief a 2-star rating, but I can’t rate it any higher. I have no doubt that Jason and Amy had a happy, love-filled life together, but the way that Jason presented their relationship and their family was just too sugar-coated. Everything was perfect all the time. He even writes: "I know I’ve made this marriage and this family sound like a fantasy. Well, guess what – they pretty much were.” I just don’t buy it. Nobody’s life is perfect, no matter how privileged they are – and the Rosenthal’s are definitely privileged.
If Jason had of written about some of the struggles in their lives and acknowledged his privilege, it would have made for a more moving story. Jason suffered a terrible loss, but it is hard to empathize or learn from his grief when his healing journey included being financially stable enough to just stop going into work (because he wanted to do yoga or read instead), traveling, and attending lots of concerts. Even Amy’s illness is glossed over and the financial burden of a dying loved one was never discussed. Amy underwent an intensive nine-hour surgery, moved to Florida to undergo chemotherapy (because they were told that chemotherapy is better to be conducted in a warm climates) which left Jason to fly back and forth between Chicago and Florida weekly, was a patient at the best facilities, and had home hospice care. The loss of a spouse is devastating, but being able to afford the best possible treatment and end-of-life care is a privilege that many do not get.
Their privilege also shines through in earlier parts of the book where Jason discusses their marriage/family goals. They could afford to build their dream house, hire nannies and assistants, and to travel for one month every summer. They often travelled to less fortunate countries to engage in social service (such as building stoves in Guatemala), which is great, but the way that Jason writes about it reeks of privilege and white saviorism. Jason even states that "If you’ve never shared gratifying experiences like these with your children, I can’t recommend it strongly enough.” How out of touch with most people’s reality can you be? Another one of their goals was to eat only good, healthy food which they were able to do because they had the “backgrounds and education to raise [their] children knowing the importance of good nutrition,” unlike other people in Chicago who “don’t understand what healthy eating even means – parents who were never exposed to it in their lives or lived below the poverty line and thought they couldn’t afford it.” Come on.
The one person in his life who isn’t a perfect, brilliant individual was his late father, Arnie. The way Jason wrote about his father was honestly disgusting. Arnie had Parkinson’s disease and spent the last few years of his life in an assisted living facility. Jason writes that visiting his father was a chore, because his dad would use the time together to complain about the facility and would never ask Jason any questions about him or his family. Instead of trying to understand where Arnie was coming from (loss of autonomy, loss of identity, living with a progressive disease that can literally cause mental and behavioural changes), Jason would instead just remind his father that “he was beyond fortunate to live where he did at no cost to himself; that his sons were there financially if he needed anything; that his kids schlepped him to countless doctors’ visits…” Jason even complains about “the fact that [he] would not get anything in return” from his father. Welcome to the real world, Jason. Taking care of aging parents is riddled with challenges and being a caretaker is stressful and demanding, especially if you didn’t have a great relationship to begin with, but wow. I feel like this was the only section of the book where you see a bit of Jason’s true colours. The rest of the time he paints himself as a flawless, caring individual.
There are other things that bothered me in this book (such as Jason’s recommendations on how friends/family can support someone who is grieving, which just don’t make sense to me), but this review is getting rather long. The last thing I will say is that I don’t think Jason should have narrated the audiobook. Usually I think memoirs are best narrated by the author, but in this case, Jason’s inflections, rhythm, and emphasis on certain words was distracting and unprofessional.
There are tons of memoirs and books about love stories and grief out there, but this isn’t one that I would recommend.