Losing Mom, by Peggy Ottman, is a memoir about a daughter walking with her mother through the last stretch of her life. The story moves through medical crises, small moments of grace, old family rhythms, and the shifting power dynamic between parent and child. It opens with years of near misses, each one convincing Ottman that maybe her mother would never actually die, and then follows the final days with an honesty that feels both intimate and strangely universal. At its heart, it is about love, caretaking, and the long letting go that comes when a parent fades.

The writing is simple, direct, sometimes almost breathless in the way it tumbles forward. That works for this kind of memoir. The scenes of crisis feel sharp because they are told the way we remember trauma, in fragments and quick flashes. I appreciated how she didn’t try to polish herself into some perfect caretaker. She shows the guilt, the second-guessing, the resentment, the deep tenderness. Her relationship with her sisters adds texture, too. They each carry different responsibilities, and you can feel the family history in every conversation.

What struck me most was the author’s honesty about fear. The fear of losing her mom, yes, but also the fear of doing the wrong thing, of missing a sign, of not being strong enough. Those moments felt very emotional. Some scenes hit hard, like when she speaks nonsense during what might be a stroke. Other moments are quiet, almost gentle, like the nurse patiently washing her mother’s hair. The memoir doesn’t try to turn grief into something tidy. It lets it stay messy and human, which makes it more powerful.

By the end, Losing Mom feels like a long exhale. It doesn’t offer big lessons. Instead, it gives you the feeling of having walked alongside someone through something real. I’d recommend Peggy Ottman‘s story to anyone who gravitates toward memoirs that deal with caregiving, aging parents, and the complicated love that sits underneath family stories. Readers who value emotional honesty over dramatic storytelling will appreciate it most. This is a memoir that keeps you thinking, especially if you’ve ever watched someone you love slowly slip away.

Pages: 300