Eastman’s memoir details the realities of caring for an elderly parent.
In a series of essays, the author tells the story of looking after her father while he was in his 80s. This was a man who, in his younger days, worked as a chemist for General Electric and was known for his sense of humor; per Eastman, he “saw every problem as an opportunity to fix and make things better.” However, in his later years he could no longer care for himself. He required regular doctor’s visits, a strict diet, and help with simple tasks. (As she says of this time, “When his day starts, so does mine.”) This book takes a close look at the quotidian routines and the struggles of elder care—everyday incidents in which the author’s father might do something like unknowingly put the television on maximum volume and then become defensive over his actions. Then there were outside pressures; Eastman writes of dealing with Medicare concerning how long one is allowed to stay in a hospital: “When Medicare says they’re done covering your stay, you’re done.” The narrative includes humorous situations as well—at one point, the author’s father told a therapist that she had called him “skanky” when in fact, after some consideration, it seemed he actually meant “snarky.” As readers might expect, dealing with an aging parent is no pleasure cruise—the book does not sugarcoat the difficulties. Eastman learned firsthand how “there just aren’t many solutions in our current culture or societal construction to appropriately care for our elders.” Even with the occasional comic relief, readers come to understand just how tough it can be. Some aspects of this toughness are, however, mentioned more than once in different essays (the author relates on multiple occasions how, at one point, her father broke his ankle). Though such repetition can disrupt the flow of the essays, it does not diminish the unglamorous, punchy portrayal of Eastman’s experience.
An unfiltered, invitingly irreverent look at what it means to be an adult caretaker.