Jacob Swinton is alone and dying. His estranged wife, Rachel, died about fifteen years ago. His son, Isaac, lives in Chicago, and they have not spoken or seen one another since her funeral. When Jacob comes home to die of cancer, not wanting to live and suffer any longer, he spends the last three months of his life writing letters to Isaac, hoping to explain himself, make peace, find atonement, and give Isaac a final gift, toward having a better life.

This is a powerful novel, addressing generational differences between father and son, what it means to love, be a man, be a father, be a husband. It deals with the poison of slavery, why men treated their wives and children with harshness, demanding respect above all else, a legacy of men demeaned by whites, treating their wives and children with meanness, demanding and at times, cruelty. Jacob describes his childhood in rural Arkansas, raised by his grandparents with his older brother, Esau, a subsistence farming life of endless hard work. By explaining the losses he endured, the harshness and deprivation, he hopes his son will understand that Jacob loved him the only way he knew how to love— not with tenderness, but demanding strictness, all in an effort to give him what he will need to survive. Jacob’s misconstrued sense of what Isaac will need, kindness, not severity, is one of many lessons Jacob learns through this exercise.

Black has achieved a great deal with a deceptively simple book. While it addresses Black families’ generational struggles, it is equally applicable to other groups with struggles, even generational differences in parenting between the Greatest Generation, Baby Boomers, and down the line. Parents usually do the best they can, but, as the author states, “They gave more than they had, but less than we needed.” Can’t that be said by each generation’s children of their parents? We give our children what we needed from our parents, only to learn that our children are different, as are their needs.

I could not help but cry for Jacob. I think you will, too, especially if you are a parent of adult children. We are all doing the best we can.