Michelle Blanchard Ardillo

Have you ever read a book where you loved it with all your heart but you didn’t love the protagonist who is also the narrator telling her own story in first person? In this instance there is no escape from this person that you aren’t really fond of. This is the case of the novel Sandwich by Catherine Newman.

I loved so much of this book. It put into words all the feels I had and have as a mother, a working mother, a tired mother, a stressed mother, a mother who had wanted children with every fiber of her being for so long, who loved them (and still does) inside and out and would fiercely protect them with her own life if necessary. I am quite famous (infamous?) in my daughters’ circles as having “A LIST.” Once you are on my list, you are rarely off of it. With one exception, and you know who you are. You fully redeemed yourself as you matured and grew into the kind of friend my daughter deserved.

Now, I don’t go around bragging about this list. In fact, as I also have matured and grown (and still am growing) into the kind of person I really and truly wanted to be, that list is pretty dormant. That doesn’t mean you can disparage my two girls (or my husband for that matter) without some kind of repercussion.

Catherine Newman’s main character, Rachel—called Rocky and/or Mom by all in the book—obviously is a mother. She obviously is devoted to her own children. She loves her parents. She loves her husband…sort of. She is a good cook and an excellent sandwich-maker. She is a writer, and was the designated stay-at-home but also work-from-home parent. She even shares that she brought in more money with her writing than her husband, who had two prestigious careers. Newman deftly portrays the “empty nest” feelings so well, the easiness of eating what you want at night for dinner, even if it means sharing leftovers.

BUT, there’s this. Rocky is anxious. She is fearful. She is tired. She is menopausal. She dreams of sleep. She even states she dreams of being hospitalized so she can just sleep. There is no escaping these facts. She also reigns this over and rains this down upon all those around her, including her beloved husband Nick, and occasionally her own two children, Jamie and Willa. She has secrets (no spoilers from me) and she has so many thoughts. So. Many. Thoughts.

Her husband Nick is the polar opposite. If he has feelings, he keeps them to himself. He is eternally at peace and the family peacemaker. His son Jamie has more of him than his mother, while their daughter Willa unfortunately has absorbed all of her mother’s angst and fearfulness and empathy.

Outside of how much Newman has conveyed the love Rocky has for her children, my main thought while reading this book was that I don’t think I’m woke enough to really love the person Rocky was. I love the writing, and I love the writing style, of this book, but Rocky and her husband Nick are basically okay with everything, and Rocky is an open book with all who know her, including her two children and her son’s girlfriend. TMI, much? Yes. Very TMI. Except for one deep, dark secret that she conveniently kept from EVERYONE, and it is that secret that is eating at her day and night, night and day.

Can you overshare with your own children? Should there be boundaries? Should you and your husband have a separate relationship from your relationship with your children, even when they are full-grown adults? I believe so. Maybe I am too conservative or too Southern or too Catholic or too something, but that’s how I feel.

Before you come at me, with all the things I just said I am “too” of, I try hard not to pass on any of that to my children or their personal lives or their friends or my friends. I saw something on Facebook recently, and this pretty much sums up how I feel.

Yet, I loved the writing. I found it very compelling and I just flew through this book. This book will feel right and true in the right hands, and for those hands where it is not right and true, perhaps it will show a different side of those who are different than you.

This book is funny and sad. It is bold and quiet. It is out there and it is introspective. The title itself is genius. Yes, Rocky makes great sandwiches, tailored to each person’s likes and dislikes (who can keep all that straight?). But, Rocky is also “sandwiched” between her aging parents whom she adores and her grown children whom she adores. She lives in fear of something terrible happening to any one of them, both slices of the sandwich bread, top and bottom, pressing down on her and squeezing out her goodness around the edges. It is a messy existence. Life is messy, life is difficult, life is beautiful, life is worthwhile.

My favorite quote of Newman’s book is this:

“So much of privileged adulthood seems to take place here, in the space between soaring highs and the killing disasters. It’s just plain life, beautiful in its familiar subtlety, its decency and dailiness.”

Pg 217

This is so true. For me, this is where my faith enters in. I believe God has a plan for me, and that plan includes those soaring highs and some things that have brought me low. What these things were and are is not what matters. It is how I respond to them. It is what I learn from them.

My sandwich days are beyond me now, although I lived through some of what Rocky is enduring with my own aging parents. Both my parents are gone and deeply missed. My faith tells me I will see them again. My daughters are grown and living their own lives. I miss having them in my home and in my daily life, but I am so proud of both of them and the bright and beautiful women they have become. They are living their own lives, as I have lived mine. I am at peace with both the top slice and the bottom slice of my own sandwich. I am where I am supposed to be. My wish for Rocky is that she, too, can someday be at peace.