I hope that writing this memoir made author Alex Witchel feel better...her sadness and suffering over her mother's decline into dementia was painful for me to experience, just as a reader. In fact, I don't think I would suggest this book for anyone with elderly parents, a spouse or other loved one who is in such a situation – it's so heartrending. For me, having already lost my parents rather early in life, I know this is something I'm not going to experience. However, I have friends who are living through this right now and I feel some of what they are going through. My heart breaks for Alex Witchel and for those I know who are in the midst of this.
I applaud the author for her bravery. Confronting her circumstances was beyond difficult, and to write about it for anyone else to read, requires a willingness that many don't or can't share. It does a service, however, because as our population ages and lifespans lengthen, more and more people will face this problem, and it is clear that more attention and resources are required. Alex Witchel is more fortunate than many – she is financially comfortable, she is well educated, she has a supportive husband, and she lives in New York City, where many of the best doctors and care can be obtained. And while she took on the primary role in arranging her mother's care, she also has three siblings who could shoulder some of the weight, though she didn't turn to them that often. Most people don't have these advantages and many have to go it alone.
Witchel explained the role of food, the homemade food produced by our mothers and other family members, as the touchstones of both normality and memory. How many of us envision and can almost taste and smell the dishes of our childhood that brought about feelings of safety, comfort and love? When I manage to (almost) reproduce one of those, I am transported back to happier, more innocent times.
The recipes Witchel included are the ones her mother made for the family. Don't expect gourmet, sophisticated or nuanced dishes. I won't be preparing any of them, as I already have my own cache of the ones made by my mother or grandmother, but I understand how much they mean to Witchel, and how each time she prepares one, she feels a little of the mother she knew in her presence, and for her, as it would be for many, that's the ultimate comfort.
I suppose people write these books as catharsis but I don't see why anyone wants to read them. If you haven't gone through it, you are probably dreading such situations, and if you have, it would almost certainly be too painful. It seems kind of arrogant to me!
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