People magazine, October 9, 2017
Roz Chast knows about funny
She uses a feeble font style
Her figures have faint lines
Sometimes her humor is subtle
Other times blatant as a siren
A New Yorker cartoonist since 1978, Chast plays her fears for laughs, taming anxiety with humor.
Oy gevalt!
In 4-color cartoons, family photos, and documents she details the last decade of her parents’ lives in this graphic memoir published in 2014.
Chast’s parents of Russian immigrant stock lived all their adult lives in the same Brooklyn apartment. Her mild-mannered father taught French and Spanish and spoke Yiddish and Italian. Her mother Elizabeth served as Vice Principal in a Brooklyn elementary school where she allowed NO VICE.
From the distance of her home in suburban Connecticut, Roz heard ominous rumblings over the phone. This time after her mother’s cataract operation . . .
Then came the steep decline!
Roz was forced to talk to her parents about taboo topics . . .
When she visited their apartment, she was appalled at all the old stuff, extremely decrepit things they had accumulated and held on to:
The decline got even steeper when her mother fell . . . twice!
Roz almost went BATS!
But more worries ensued . . . she visited aisles in stores stocked with Boost, adult diapers. Then her parents moved to a very expensive assisted living facility, merely called The Place.
And of course she had to deal with the stuff that remained. All alone!
Bloomsbury, Chast’s publisher claims that this 228-page book, her only memoir, provides “comfort and comic relief for anyone experiencing the life-altering [care and] loss of elderly parents.” I happen to agree.
To this day, Roz keeps the remains of her parents, the neurotic George and the outspoken Elizabeth in her closet in small urns, separate but close. She says:
My bedroom closet is not large. The clothes in it are not stylish, but they are organized by color in a way I like to look at. The shoes are on a tree, or placed in pairs on the floor. It’s not a super-neat closet, but it’s not messy. I think it makes a nice home for them. Every time I open its door, I see the boxes, and I think of them.
* * *
Have you experienced the mixed feelings of caring elderly parents or other loved one? It can be a roller-coaster ride, a slow decline, a combination of both – or something else.
What in Chast’s story can you relate to?
What words of wisdom do you have for readers making decisions about an elderly parent?
I think this is a time in our lives that everyone dreads and wish it never came. Sadly, most of us will find ourselves in this position sooner or later and it is never easy. Dealing with elderly parents is painful and sad in equal measure, as well as stressful. It must have been very hard to turn these events into humorous cartoons, but how brave! I suppose it must have been a kind of coping mechanism, like writing, painting or music. We all cope in different ways.
Roz was an only (living) child, so she bore the total burden, physically and emotionally. Fortunately, I had the help of two sisters. With both an elderly Mother and Aunt, we cleared out and sold two homes in the space of 3 years.. That wasn’t the hardest part: Saying goodbye was. 🙁
Like most cartoonists, Roz has a knack for turning tragedy into humorous material. I suppose it wouldn’t be a stretch to say it is a coping mechanism + she’s made a career of it!
You know your audience here well, Marian and it’s neat that this combines both you and Cliff’s passions: writing and deft and funny cartoons. The part I connect with most is I am in the throes of #dealingwithmystuff as you know: our office is moving and downsizing and the closets and file drawers and shelves I’ve had to accumulate papers and beloved memories–there’s no space for those in the swanky-ish attorney offices where we’ve rented a suite for MennoMedia. So I’m trying to find space for the really special things at home. Which means emptying and purging drawers there. BUT in my defense, I discovered college papers last night which were amazing in what they revealed about me to professors (!) and a fun ballad I wrote while in Spain that my English prof there loved. (Yes, I got to take English literature in Spain with a prof from England and it was my favorite class because everyone else was native speakers of Spanish or Catalan. I could shine in that class while I struggled in the Spanish ones.)
Love this post. I will have to enlarge some of the cartoons to be able to read her font but hey I just got new stronger glasses. 🙂
I remember cleaning out my office too. Like you, I took a look at everything before I recycled, threw out, or kept it. Near the end of the purge, I invited in other profs to my “give-away,” files I knew I wouldn’t need again. Still, it was hard, hard, hard. Marie Kondo, in her “Tidy” book advises one to keep only what sparks joy. It sounds a little pious, but I think of her slogan every now and then when I want to hang on to things I should pass along.
After Mother’s death, I bought Roz’ book because I could imagine my own story made humorous. My shots are poor images of her brilliant graphics. Thanks for posting here and for your anecdote about being an American student in Spain with an English professor. You must have kept a journal and written about it in a book or blog post. Thanks, Melodie!
My entry above was written in the wee hours of the morning and could have used a stronger editorial hand. Sorry about the sloppy grammar. 🙂
Oh–and on my computer at the office with a much bigger screen I had no trouble reading the cartoons!
Honestly, I didn’t notice except to wonder why you couldn’t see the images. They were not scanned properly – just iPhone snaps from my personal copy of the book.
About the editing part – it happens to me all the time. Go easy on yourself; you are making a major move! 😊
I am so fortunate in having a 90.5 year-old mother in relatively good health living “independently.” My four siblings who live close to her make it possible with weekly visits plus a paid companion who takes Mother on adventures outside her retirement community. But the time comes for most of us who live past age 65, at least, to become more dependent. We are trying to plan for the next stage without precipitating it with too much help.
The major downsizing for Mother took place six years ago. When she moves to a more central location in the retirement community, it will happen again. She was disappointed at how little value her antiques had at auction time.
I love Roz Chast’s cartoons. The one that made me laugh the most was the oven mitt. I think my children view Stuart and me in a similar way. I need to go on record, however; I never patched an oven mitt.
Your mother is of hardy stock and fortunate to have lived so long independently. Until the last week of her life, my mother (96) lived in her own home alone with visits and phone calls from us. My aunt whose decline spanned 8 years was a different story. Hats off to my sister Jean who traveled at least once a week about 80 miles each way to see Aunt Ruthie and take care of her needs. My other sister and I did what we could from afar. It’s not easy.
I love the funny patches in Chast’s book; the oven mitt made me smile too. My children would be aghast at how many times I re-use aluminum foil.
I have some potholders in the shape of chickens that sit on the ledge of my stove. I love them because they are so handy when I need to grab hold of a pot handle quickly. They came with me from our other home in Kitchener Waterloo. They are quite ragged now and I haven’t found a replacement. Can’t get myself to throw them out. Forgot to put them in the laundry last week! Am I getting to that stage Roz Chast’s parents were in? If not yet, I will be soon. That’s my reality! Wish I could find some new potholders exactly like these old ones!
Lovely. So true…..
I take it you can relate with similar experiences in your own family. Thanks for reading and commenting, Jack.
These cartoons are delightful and I think we can all relate to them in one way or another.
If anything, this book teaches us to value our loved ones while they are still alive – in spite of their frailties and foibles. So true, Darlene.
Miriam — I enjoyed Roz Chast’s cartoons, thank you for sharing them in this post. My mother died from breast cancer when she was 53, but my father lived into his 80’s. He died two years ago. Thankfully, only the last two years of his life were difficult for everyone concerned.
Laurie, you know the pain of caring and loss. And I know you can relate on many levels to Roz’ take on the aging process. Thanks for sharing here. ~ Marian
My parents are slowly reclaiming their basement after cleaning out 2 parents’ homes, and a few assorted moves to different nursing homes. My mother is pressing my Dad to deal with his crap so I don’t have to! I’m not holding my breath. lol
A possible game plan: Every once in a while offer to “help” while your parents are able. Maybe appear for a few minutes to spot a few goodies, and then ease yourself up the stairs when you see they are immersed. I’ll be cheering you all on the sidelines – yeah! Sorting stuff alone could be pretty crappy too. Thanks for sharing, Jenn.
My father is the full-time caregiver for my mother, who has Alzheimer’s. Thankfully, he’s recently hired a home care worker to assist when I’m not able.
I’m tearing up as I read your comment and try to reply here. I have experienced a version of the pain and the gamut of emotions you are going through now. Huge hugs ((( ))) and prayers for strength and grace too.
Thank you, Marian. <3
My dad passed 5 years ago, 14 years after my mother. He made sure his children all knew his wishes, which was so important! Although the whole process seems to have irreparably divided our family, it is important to honor a person’s preferences, even if they don’t jive with yours. Remember each person handles the decline and passing of our elders/loved ones differently.
First of all, Ginger, I am sorry for the losses of both of your parents. That in itself is difficult. It is true that each person handles the decline and passing of our elders/loved ones differently. And, as you say, it is important to honor a person’s preferences, even if they don’t jive with yours. I know a couple right now who is wrestling with the problem of cremation vs. grave burial. Eventually, I know, they will sort it out as I hope your family will do with their differences as well.
In a podcast I heard just yesterday, Roz Chast remarked to Terry Gross that she moved the cremains of her parents from her closet to a small Jewish cemetery where their oldest infant daughter was buried. Now she has her loved ones all in one physical location.
Oh, boy. This is wonderful, Marian. Yes, I’ve experienced something close. As you know, it hasn’t ended for me, except my mother-in-law doesn’t fight for independence anymore. That fight went on until she was 100. Now, closing in on 102, she accepts her health aides and me with gratitude and without complaint.
Gratitude? Who is this woman who hassled me for 50 years? And who is this woman who had a mini-stroke last week (again) and was back to her old self in a few days with the same conversations we’ve repeated for a year or so? She still introduces me to health aides or visiting nurses (as though they’re meeting me for the first time) as her daughter-in-law. Asks where her son is (he’s always teaching out of town). Asks about her grandsons and even my mother. I loved Roz’s book about her parents. Sometimes all we can do is laugh. Fortunately, my sons are having an easy time talking to me about hard stuff. So far!
Oh, boy, Elaine. You are still in the thick of it, but the mellowing has helped. I’m sure you thought years ago you’d never see the day when gratitude would flow from this formidable woman. It’s possible another mini-stroke will take her, and you’ll be dumb struck after all the travail.
You know you always have my good wishes as you tread this difficult path. Yes, sometimes all we can do is laugh – ha!
Well, this was very funny Marian! Oy gevalt – from those opening words I was laughing! All the cartoons are so amusing. I guess underneath a particular kind of humour on a particular topic there is always a very serious underlying theme… as in political cartoons for example and in Roz Chatz’s instance.
I haven’t had similar experiences in care-giving for elderly parents though my sweet sister spent much time with our mother when she was living in frail care, and I know she found it very hard and emotionally taxing. Though she spent loving and frequent time with her. I witnessed my closest friend dying earlier this year and for me just spending quiet time with her was so valuable …
Ah, Susan, you were laughing because you can relate to the parallel emotions you experienced with your dear sister and also a close friend. Remember: laughing and crying are close buddies. My condolences to you on your losses. It’s never easy. Thank you for chiming in here, always appreciated.
This was a beautiful share Marian. Nothing like sharing real life with a bit of humor. I lost both my parents and know all about caregiving. Now I just strive to take care of my husband so we can continue to laugh and enjoy our life together. As you know he’s quite a bit older than me, which prompted me to write my latest book, hoping to publish by late November. 🙂
Yes, I have read snippets of your tender care of that husband of yours – your nearest and dearest. I admire your high volume publication. This gestation period for this first book of mine seem to go on and on. Maybe the next one won’t take as long. My husband and I have plans for one or more children’s books together. He’s already working on the illustrations.
I’m glad you enjoyed Roz Chast’s take on elder care. “It ain’t easy.” Thanks again for taking time to read and comment in spite of time pressure . . . much appreciated. 🙂
It’s always a treat to come here and read something inspiring Marian. And remember, nobody can put a time limit on their WIP, time differs for every writer. You’ll get there, and no doubt you’ll be hammering out a children’s book within the same year. It’s like riding a bike, lol;. 🙂
I put a lot of stock into your wise words, Debby. Why? You’ve been there, done that many, many times. Thanks for being in my cheering section – always! 🙂
It’s always my pleasure Marian. Happy weekend my friend. 🙂 x
For me personally it’s to have a great understanding with fellow siblings( I know not all are as fortunate as myself) . Without my sister I couldn’t have coped . She was and is my rock , hero and second mum ( although she really wouldn’t like the mum bit ) .
We lost parents and in laws ten years or so a go but I have friends who are going through what we went through right now …it’s really hard . My advice is do all you can for them and treat yourself with a little valuable time to yourself when at all possible.
Time is more valuable than gold as we all know .
Cherryx
Your voice of experience comes through laugh and clear here. Thanks, Cherry. At the moment I’m trying to convince a good friend who is taking care of her 100-year-old dad to take a break. “What if he lives to be 105 – or even 101? You can’t go on forever without respite!”
Ah, I’m preaching to the choir I see. Always great to hear from you, dear friend. 😀
I recognize all those phases in an elderly parent’s life! Nice cartoons!
Yes, I know your trips from Sweden to England often entail family care. Thanks for taking the time to share there, Fiona.