Sandwich by Catherine Newman is one of those rare novels that sneaks up on you quietly, tenderly, and with so much honesty that it leaves you teary-eyed and smiling at the same time. It’s a story about a middle-aged woman on a family vacation, but more than that, it’s a deeply human exploration of love, motherhood, aging, longing, and the absurd, beautiful messiness of life.
As a psychologist, I found the emotional landscape of this book incredibly rich. Newman captures the inner monologue of her protagonist with such nuance and humor that even the most fleeting moments; a glance, a passing thought, a small act of care, feel profound. The protagonist’s role as the ‘sandwich generation’ is both literal and symbolic: caught between caring for aging parents and parenting young adults, while also managing the invisible labor of emotional caretaking. It’s exhausting, funny, heartbreaking, and deeply relatable.
What I appreciated most is Newman’s ability to bring humor into the darkest corners of the psyche. She doesn’t shy away from the rawness of relationships or the quiet despair that sometimes accompanies routine, aging, or the fear of being unseen. Yet, her writing is buoyant, filled with affection and wit, and never turns cynical.
The novel made me reflect on the way we carry our roles as women: wife, mother, daughter, caregiver..often invisibly, and how important it is to name our needs and our griefs. Sandwich doesn’t offer solutions, but it gives space for recognition, for truth, and for the radical act of witnessing our own lives.
Highly recommended for anyone in midlife, for mothers, daughters, and those who love stories told with tenderness and truth. It’s not just a book.. it’s a hug in a written form.