Another narcissistic, sad-sack “mom” who has loads of resources at her fingertips (2 co-parents for her son, money, multiple homes, education, time, etc.) and invests none of them on her son’s health and future. Boy, did he ever get the shaft. A “parent” who can waste that many resources and, literally, never miss them should NEVER be allowed to quack their child or publish a BS “story” about their child’s life. When I think of all the parents out there (Zack McDermott’s parents, Esme Wang’s parents, my parents) who did so much more and cared so much more than Ms. Frank, I feel devastated, on her son’s behalf. By Ms. Frank’s own account, her son is a young man of exceptional intellect, personality, and imagination. Just a modicum of care from his mom - or anyone, really - could have harnessed his considerable personal strengths and propelled him into a safe, productive, enjoyable, and successful life. His feelings, unorthodox as they may seem, were not entirely at odds with most of what he needed to keep (his liberty, his progress in school, etc.) in order to attain the psychological, social, and physical security he sought and DESERVED. But, he needed his mom to spearhead those plans. Not even highly-capable boys like him can - or should - make lifesaving decisions alone. Would Ms. Frank really have been so “burdened”, if she had allowed her son to honestly answer a few basic questions BEFORE he collapsed?
“How are you doing in school?”;
“How are you feeling?”;
“What do you want to do this year?”;
“Do you think there any changes we should make, as a family?”
“What makes you happy, these days?”
I don’t see how, but you’d never think of that, if you simply read this book and took the author at her word. Ms. Frank’s aversion to self-reflection is, literally, a phobia of hers. Great memoirs, no matter how subjective they are, must explore their objective side. Usually, that’s when self-aggrandizement is tempered by the author’s responsibility to other people. In this book, that subplot is the alternative lives of Ms. Frank and her “boy” (son who became a MAN!). Where, in Ms. Frank’s opinion, are her and her son today, if, years ago, her priorities had maintained a loving, balanced, and realistic focus? If she and her son were just now reaping the benefits of those priorities, which, by necessity, could only produce long-term rewards? We’ll never know. Ms. Frank’s cowardice outstripped her desire for a “big book” and, more importantly, a genuine relationship with a thriving, grown son. Tragic as that is, readers shouldn’t be hamstrung by it. Zach’s story (a version of it, anyway) is in our lives now and as we read and comment on it, we must emphatically reject his mom’s delusional narrative which depicts her still-young, still-promising son as a disposable person who will diminish until he ceases to exist.