I'LL BE SEEING YOU

Novelist Berg documents a year in the life of her aging parents.

“Whatever your age, you are picnicking with your back to a forest full of bears,” writes the author. At 70, she still feels youthful, “someone with grass stains on her knees and a roller-skate key around her neck,” but she knows she will soon experience the physical diminishment her parents endured a decade earlier. This memoir charts a year in her parents’ lives, from October 2010 to July 2011, when they were forced to leave their beloved Minnesota home and move into an assisted living facility due to her father’s Alzheimer’s. It was a dramatic decline for a man who was “a lifer in the U.S. Army whose way of awakening me in the morning when I was in high school was to stand at the threshold of my bedroom and say, ‘Move out.’ ” Berg recounts her trips to Minnesota to help her parents adjust, her dealings with realtors and auctioneers unsympathetic to the family’s tragedy, and conversations with her resentful mother, whose anger at her husband’s rapidly slipping away led her to wish he would go to sleep one night and not wake up. “The failing of an aging parent is one of those old stories that feels abrasively new to the person experiencing it,” she writes. The narrative is repetitive, with constant references to food and snippets of trivial conversations with acquaintances readers meet only once. This sketchiness and repetition suggest that Berg may have had mixed feelings about sharing this intimate portrait, and the memoir suffers as a result. Moving moments peek through, however, such as the author’s portrayal of her parents’ decadeslong practice of kissing first thing in the morning and last thing at night; when her father couldn’t remember one day if he had kissed his wife good morning, he kissed her again to make sure.

A tender if timid account of the sadness of old age.