Betsy Lerner’s memoir is my kind of book: at once hilarious and poignant. I love her writing style, love the conflicting mother-daughter relationship, and especially love the bridge references. You don’t have to be a bridge player to enjoy this book, but as a bridge enthusiast, I found it enhanced the story.
Betsy’s husband responds to a job offer and the family returns to live in Betsy’s home town, New Haven, Connecticut. Betsy has misgivings. She and her widowed mother have never been close. Her mother, now in her eighties, has never approved of Betsy’s choices. Of anything. Betsy’s clothes, makeup (or lack of it), entertainment, her housekeeping, or occupation as a writer. Betsy has always felt she wasn’t up to her mother’s standards and resents her not-so-subtle hints.
Ever since Betsy was a little girl, her mother played bridge with four other Jewish ladies (they always had a stand-by). Sure enough, they’re still at it when Betsy returns to New Haven. Determined to really know these ladies, including her mother, Betsy joins them, as a writer interviews them, and discovers what it means to age, to lose loved ones, yet still go on. Along the way, Betsy learns about herself.
This memoir at times made me laugh out loud, made me more aware of generational differences, and encouraged me to ponder my own senior years. I highly recommend The Bridge Ladies: A Memoir.