My Wife Said You May Want to Marry Me
In My Wife Said You May Want to Marry Me, Jason B. Rosenthal describes what came next, even as he struggled with her loss. Surveying his life before, with, and after Amy, Jason ruminates on love, the pain of watching a loved one suffer, and what it means to heal - how he and their three children, despite their profound sorrow, went on. Jason's emotional journey offers insights on dying and death and the excruciating pain of losing a soulmate, and illuminates the lessons he learned.
As he reflects on Amy's gift to him - a fresh start to fill his empty space with a new story - Jason describes how he continues to honor Amy's life and her last wish, and how he seeks to appreciate every day and live in the moment while trying to help others coping with loss. My Wife Said You May Want to Marry Me is the poignant, unreserved, and inspiring story of a great love, the aftermath of a marriage ended too soon, and how a surviving partner eventually found a new perspective on life's joys in the wake of tremendous loss.
Review: I received an uncorrected proof copy of this from HarperCollins.
Picking up where his late wife's New York Times Modern Love column left off, this memoir tells the story of Jason Rosenthal's marriage to Amy Krouse Roesenthal, about her death from ovarian cancer, and his efforts to process his grief after losing her.
I was delighted to receive an advance copy of this book, vividly recalling the heartbreaking and yet somehow still charming column written by his late wife. That is of course the great draw of this memoir but somehow still its downfall because, of course, Amy has died and with it her great writing talent. Her wit, her wordplay, her succinct way at moving us all to tears with her moving tribute to her marriage has been lost, leaving her husband to attempt to record a more lengthy depiction of their marriage and her death.
This memoir was a moving tribute of a happy and loving marriage. Throughout, Jason's devotion to Amy is clear, as is his motivation to continue her legacy and keep her name alive. It made me profoundly sad to read his account of her illness and death, leaving behind not only Jason but so many unfinished plans and three children who had just barely reached young adulthood.
It pains me to be critical of a man's loving tribute to his dead wife, but I did think this book suffered from being acutely aware of its readers. Rosenthal spends significant pages of the books thanking various friends and family members and writing glowing summaries of their many positive attributes and kind deeds. Of course talking about family members in this highly person memoir makes sense - but I walked away feeling as if I had just read a transcript of a lengthy thank you acceptance speech. I couldn't help but wonder what the author might have said if he didn't feel so highly aware of everyone he knew who would be reading the book.
By this same token, I think the book suffers in its failure to highlight imperfections. Again, I found myself wondering if being highly aware of the fact that his children, his in-laws, his wife's friends would be reading this made him even more hestitant to criticize anyone, but most especially Amy. The picture he paints is of a perfect marriage and a near perfect life, with perhaps just the stress of his less than perfect affinity for his law work. It seems unlikely that in 25 years of marraige they never had any worries or frustrations with one another.
I'm glad I had the opportunity to read this book and get to know the woman behind the column from the perspective of the man who knew her best. In the end, my favorite parts of this book are the excerpts writen by Amy, most especially this poem written early in their relationship that most poignantly illustrates the love they shared:
"There they were.
Limbs intertwined.
A human squiggle.
They thought about getting up to eat, it was probably time -
But they didn't.
They thought about turning on some music, the tv -
Why bother.
They thought maybe they'd go outside, take a walk -
But that didn't seem right either.
You have to understand that where they were
Was perfect.
There.
Together.
Still, they thought really they should get up and do something, anything.
But nothing was as good.
Nothing was as whole.
Nothing
Even came close." (18)
Stars: 3
Comments
Post a Comment