An interesting and quick read, I knew from the beginning that this book wouldn't be a keeper, though I couldn't immediately put my finger on a particular reason. It was well written, contained many entertaining or interest-drawing anecdotes, etc.
As with most memoirs, I felt a bit like a voyeur peeking into a world that, frankly, was clearly none of my business. But then, that's the draw of a memoir to begin with. I think here, the difference lay not in the information being revealed, but more in the WHY of the revelation. Most authors include details from their personal lives, moments that they themselves experienced. If they reveal the private details of their friends and family members in the process, at least the telling of their own personal tale seems to warrant the yanking down of those curtains that shield those people, removing their privacy.
But here, Thorndike, writes about the end of his father's life, trying to make sense of his and his father's experiences and relationship, something he does in a most compassionate and honest way. At the same time, part of this process includes his personal quest for more information, and his research [read: digging up dirt to satisfy what he clearly identifies as his own personal curiosity] on his parents' private lives. And there is something about that which fails to sit rightly with me.
Beyond this, the story seems to be not as much a tale about Alzheimer's disease as much as it is a tale of dying, with Alzheimer's playing a strong backdrop, much in the way the movie Titanic was more about the people in it, and the sinking of the Titanic's playing only a supporting role. I suppose I expected the book to be a sort of case study on Alzheimer's, rather than a personal account that, at the end of the day is less informative, and more emotionally evocative. The book certainly brought back memories and emotions from the end of my grandfather's life - his failing body and mind, and the experiences, both external and internal, that went along with that chapter. I don't have any problem revisiting that time, in that it is practically accessible in my heart and mind, and in that I don't have emotional resistance or reason to avoid it.
But I expected that this work would take me down a different path than it did in reality, and therefore, though a well executed work, I found it lacking.