"I felt that we were launched in a too-small skiff onto some boundless black sea, no hint of shore in any direction, no rudder to steer with, a single oar—our union—to randomly slap at the water’s cold and bleak surface," James writes, encapsulating the relentless, uncharted fate the couple must navigate. The deeper the story goes, the more impactful the letters, and James conveys the depth of his love for Judy while remaining candid about his naturally humane reactions—frustration, irritation, impatience, and eventually, guilt—when things go haywire during the latter stages of the disease.
The moments of grief are as devastating as the moments of love are compelling: when Judy learns the disease has progressed to the point she can no longer drive alone, her keening response—“I just want my life back”—is painfully authentic, as is James’s growing awareness that “little by little I was becoming her warden, her jailer, and sometimes I think she saw me that way.” But even in the darkest times, their love forms a strong foundation, and James ends with a last missive to Judy, sharing his gratitude for the chance to rebuild his life after her death—“I know now I’d wish this life for you, if you’d survived me.”
Takeaway: A touching anthem on love’s power in the face of Alzheimer’s disease.
Comparable Titles: Meryl Comer's Slow Dancing with a Stranger, Lisa Genova's Still Alice.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: NA
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A