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And Every Morning The Way Home Gets Longer And Longer
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Themes
Content Warning: This section of the guide depicts illness, mental illness, and death.
Memory Loss as the Erasure of Identity
Backman portrays memory loss not as a sudden erasure of self, but as a gradual contraction of identity. Grandpa’s decline unfolds unevenly, revealing a central tension between the details that remains and those that slip away. Rather than defining identity through factual recall, the novella defines it through relationships and the effect they have on a person’s life. Grandpa’s cognitive decline is an experiential reality that reveals the instability of his inner world in a way that strips away layers of his identity over time.
The novella visualizes identity through metaphorical space, most notably the square that represents Grandpa’s mind. Early in the text, Grandpa observes that “the square got smaller overnight again” (3), a phrase that recurs as his condition worsens. This repetition is reflected in the novella’s title, And Every Morning the Way Home Gets Longer and Longer. The title is long and begins with a contraction (“and”) signaling that this is a drawn-out process that can’t be summed up easily. The shrinking square of Grandpa’s mind reflects his shrinking cognitive capacity while also emphasizing that his identity does not vanish all at once. Objects, memories, and people remain within the space, but they become harder to access and increasingly disordered.
This gradual erosion is further articulated through analogy. Grandpa compares his fading mind to a star whose light continues to reach Earth long after the star itself has begun to die, noting that “when a star fades it takes a long time for us to realize” (29). Similarly, he describes forgetting as constantly searching one’s pockets for something that is no longer there, observing that “it starts with keys and ends with people” (46). These comparisons emphasize all parts of the self are alienable, even a person’s most treasured relationships and memories. The image conjures frustration and repetition. Grandpa often remembers that he has forgotten something without being able to remember what it was, a state that is both exhausting and frightening.
Importantly, Backman does not portray this shrinking identity as purely tragic. Forgetting also dulls pain, as Grandpa remarks that “you forget the things that hurt too” (46). This duality complicates the narrative, suggesting that loss coexists with the lightness that comes with forgetting one’s worries. Grandpa’s identity narrows, but it also becomes concentrated around the people and memories that matter most. As abstract ideas, professional roles, and distant memories fade, Grandpa’s emotional attachments to Grandma, Noah, and Ted remain remarkably persistent.
By the novella’s conclusion, Grandpa’s memory and identity are no longer coherent. He does not reliably know who or where he is, yet he remains emotionally present. Noah responds by reconstructing Grandpa’s identity aloud, recounting stories, habits, and acts of love. This moment still defines identity as memory, but that identity is now remembered by someone else. Grandpa’s sense of self survives not because he remembers it, but because others remember him.
Love as an Anchor Against Cognitive Decline
And Every Morning the Way Home Gets Longer and Longer presents intergenerational love as the primary stabilizing force in the face of memory loss. As Grandpa’s cognitive abilities deteriorate, his relationships with his late wife, son, and grandson become the means through which his identity, purpose, and emotional continuity are preserved.
The bond between Grandpa and Noah serves as the clearest expression of this anchoring love. From the beginning, their relationship is defined by shared rituals, imagination, and trust. Grandpa teaches Noah to navigate the world through games involving maps, mathematics, and exploration, establishing a sense of security rooted in presence rather than certainty. Even as Grandpa’s mind begins to fail, his affection for Noah remains intact, expressed through physical gestures such as hand-holding and protective reassurance. Grandpa worries not about dying, but about “leaving” Noah before his death, revealing that his deepest fear is the loss of his family relationships rather than mortality.
Noah accepts metaphorical explanations of Grandpa’s illness without resistance, telling Grandpa that if he forgets, he will simply get the chance to know Noah again. This reframing transforms cognitive loss into a space for renewed connection, reinforcing love as adaptive to the needs of the situation. This love can’t prevent Grandpa from losing his memory, but it can anchor him in reality as long as he has the capacity be anchored. When Grandpa can no longer sustain his own identity, his family members preserve his sense of self through shared memories.
Intergenerational love also operates as a bridge between Grandpa and Ted, whose relationship is marked by unresolved resentment and grief. Ted struggles with anger toward his father for being emotionally absent during his childhood, yet Grandma identifies Noah as the connection that keeps them linked: “the universe gave you both Noah” (66). Through Noah, Ted can remain present without demanding reconciliation or resolution of his conflicts with Grandpa. Ted’s participation in companionship with Grandpa signals a shift from anger toward acceptance, facilitated by shared love rather than explanation.
Backman reinforces this theme through recurring symbols that emphasize closeness and continuity. The string tied around wrists, the anchor raised so Noah can continue entering the boat, and the green tent in the hospital all represent efforts to keep family members connected across distance and decline. These symbols highlight love as something enacted through deliberate acts of inclusion and care. Even humor functions as an expression of intergenerational love, easing fear and creating moments of laughter amid confusion and grief.
Ultimately, the novella suggests that while memory loss erodes individual autonomy, familial love can guide a person back to the things that make them who they are. Grandpa’s world may shrink, but it does not collapse because it is held open by Noah’s imagination, Ted’s responsibility, and Grandma’s enduring influence. Through these relationships, love functions not as resistance to decline, but as the force that allows life to remain meaningful within it.
The Emotional Labor of Letting Go
The novella presents acceptance of Grandpa’s memory loss—for himself and his family—not as passive resignation but as conscious, sustained emotional labor. As Grandpa’s memory deteriorates, the characters are confronted with the limits of explanation and control. Rather than framing acceptance as a single moment of clarity, the novella depicts it as an ongoing practice that requires patience, presence, and a willingness to remain with loss as it unfolds. Letting go, in this context, does not mean withdrawing love, but reshaping it to meet Grandpa’s new conditions.
This labor is evident in the ways characters manage fear. Grandpa frequently tries to shield Noah from distress, offering reassurance through humor. His repeated insistence that fear will “keep the bears away” shows anxiety as both manageable and even protective (13). Humor is his main tool for acceptance, interrupting moments of emotional overwhelm without denying their seriousness. By choosing laughter instead of despair or denial, the characters demonstrate that acceptance can coexist with acceptance of life’s harsh realities.
Ted’s arc illustrates the difficulty of this emotional work. He understands Grandpa’s condition more fully than Noah does, yet this awareness doesn’t make it easier for him. In fact, it brings anger rather than relief. Ted’s frustration is described as “a never-ending rage, being angry at the universe” (71), which redirects blame away from individuals (like Grandpa or the hospital staff) and toward the uncontrollable unfairness of life. Over time, Ted’s acceptance comes through the idea of companionship. He says to Noah, “We can walk down the road with him. We can keep him company” (70). This shows that, even though there is no solution or cure for Grandpa’s illness, his inevitable loss becomes secondary to Ted and Noah’s decision to stay with him until the end.
Grandpa, too, participates in this labor, particularly in his attempts to prepare Noah for their separation. He speaks of practicing their goodbye and acknowledges that one day, Noah’s feet will touch the ground while he himself will be “in space” (33). For Grandpa, acceptance is anticipatory grief—a recognition of his death before it fully arrives. Grandpa’s concern is for those he will leave behind, reinforcing that for him, the difficulty of letting go is rooted in his care for others rather than his desire for self-preservation.
The green tent in the hospital room at the novella’s conclusion embodies this theme most fully. At this point, no one attempts to correct Grandpa or restore his memory. Instead, family members reminisce, sleep, and appreciate each other’s presence. The line “It’s a big universe to be angry at but a long life to have company in” (75) reframes Ted’s earlier expressions of rage into an expression of patience and gratitude. Acceptance, the passage suggests, is not about making peace with the universe, but about choosing love and happiness within it.
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