I've been reading Roz Chast's comics in the New Yorker ever since I learned how to read (at age 11). I remember reading an excerpt from this book probably back when it was first released in 2014. Aging and dying aren't easy subjects, but I admire Chast's honesty and this book finds humor even in the most trying of circumstances. This book also sparked a conversation with my own parents about what we'd all like done with our bodies after we die, and firmed up our (continually delayed) commitment to finally filling out advanced directives for our own medical care.