This is a wonderful book.
It's under 200 pages, but it packs in a lot. It's Brian Morton's memoir of his mother, Tasha. He had previously written a novel in which she was a character, which was kind of a caricature. Not surprisingly, she hated it. After her death, he wanted to give a fuller, more accurate picture of his mother. In some ways, she was appalling: egocentric, narcissistic, insensitive. Just one example: she could not understand why he wouldn't want her to accompany him and his wife on their anniversary dinner. But she had been a wonderful, progressive teacher and civil rights advocate. I had trouble putting these two sides together. How could someone devoted to enabling children to become independent thinkers be so controlling with regards to her own children? How could someone so controlling that she left 27 messages on his answering machine enable her pupils to become independent thinkers?
The book is also about her stubborn refusal to go into assisted living (I get that!) when she can no longer care for herself, partly because she's become a serious hoarder in complete denial. Instead, Tasha wanted to live with her son or her daughter. I wish he didn't feel so guilty about not having let her do that. He considered selling his mother's house and using the money to buy a bigger house that would accommodate his family and his mother and an aide. An entire block wouldn't be big enough! As an adult, Brian managed to distance himself from his mother, who could be charming and funny, but also toxic. Having her live with them would have destroyed him and probably wrecked his family.
The book is also about the trials of having an aged parent with dementia and trying to find decent care for them. Because Tasha is not a reliable witness, to say the least, Brian eventually secretly tapes one of the aides who was at least verbally abusive and possibly physically abusive as well. It's heartbreaking. This book will give you a lot to think about: aging and death, the possibility of dementia, adult relations with your parents, your relations with your adult children, and a healthcare system whose motto seems to be "You're on your own." You'll laugh, you may cry, you won't put it down.