Marissa Moss is an author/artist, and you may have seen her Amelia's Notebook series or her excellent picture-book biographies (or, I reviewed The Pharaoh's Secret a few years ago). These days she has a small publishing company, too. Her husband, Harvey Stahl, was an art history professor at Berkeley, and this is the story of his diagnosis of ALS and the family's journey through his illness and death.
This is a really, really tough story, and Moss tells it with wrenching honesty. Harvey's illness hit so hard and fast that there was no time to absorb and come to terms with it. Instead, he was mostly angry and shut off, while Marissa tried to stretch herself far enough to care for him and their three boys without falling apart. Harvey only seemed to find solace (if any) in working on the book he'd been writing; each son suffered in his own way; and Marissa struggled to hold her family together, mostly feeling like she was failing everyone.
Last things sneak up on you, slip away, unnoticed, unmarked...the last kiss, the last "I love you"...because we assume there will be others. We share a lot of "lasts" and don't even know it.If you're familiar with Moss' work, you'll recognize her style. It's like her other graphic work, but entirely rendered in black and grays -- no color at all. Harvey died in 2002, less than seven months after his diagnosis, and just about fifteen years ago. I think it probably took her that long to be able to write this. That does make it possible for her to include information on her sons' growing up and her life now, which is really nice to have. She also finished Harvey's book (and it's coming for me on ILL).
An excellent and extremely painful memoir. Read it, and have a box of tissues nearby.
Ooh, look, I found a book trailer: