Fifty-seven Fridays is a deeply intimate and moving memoir in which Myra Sack recounts losing her first daughter, Havi, to Tay-Sachs in 2021. Havi’s story stretches from the time before her terminal diagnosis at fifteen months, through the precious, joy-filled moments Sack and her daughter shared, to Havi’s death and its heart-wrenching aftermath.
From the start, Sack shows readers a calm and sweet baby whose golden curls, huge sparkling eyes, and laughter light up the pages. Readers will fall in love with Havi and despair knowing that Tay-Sachs — a rare, inherited, and fatal disorder — will eventually steal her life.
The memoir takes place by the sea in California and at Sack’s home in Boston. Each paragraph radiates with “boundless love and bottomless pain,” two seemingly polar emotions that Sack repeatedly describes as coexistent, even intertwined.
Sack describes the progression of Tay-Sachs, which gradually strips away Havi’s ability to sit, feed herself, smile, and, eventually, swallow. Sack and her husband, Matt Goldstein, move through their anguish and remain present with their daughter, filling her short life with trips to the beach, music, nature, and so much tenderness and love. The book includes poignant letters addressed to Havi. One begins:
… There is a photo in our kitchen, which we hung up after we got back from our Havimoon, showing us all sitting at our daily breakfast table in Del Mar. Your hand is resting on top of a small bowl full of fresh fruit, your beautiful long fingers curved perfectly around a blueberry. I’ve been staring at that photo this week, losing myself trying to get back into that moment to remember what it looked like to see you feed yourself. And sometimes I can’t remember completely, and that scares me.
Sack portrays the support Havi received from grandparents, siblings, friends, healthcare providers, and mentors. She also describes special moments and rituals they created, such as “Shabbirthdays,” which involved “Havi’s posse” going all out to celebrate Havi’s life each Friday night. This unique twist on a Jewish tradition becomes a powerful symbol of how the family chose to navigate their journey.
The book also delves into the legal battle the family pursued after the hospital they visited ordered the wrong test, resulting in a misreported negative-carrier status. While Sack knows the lawsuit won’t bring her daughter back, it offers her a glimmer of purpose: to hopefully prevent other families from enduring the same tragedy.
Since Havi’s death, Sack and Goldstein have both found new ways to inhabit the world through their respective Havi-inspired work. Sack founded E‑Motion, a nonprofit organization created to support people through loss, and Goldstein started JScreen, an organization dedicated to providing education, genetic testing, and personalized support.
Sack’s memoir may be a great comfort to those experiencing loss, especially the death or illness of a child. It can also serve as a guide for those seeking to support grieving loved ones. Sack relates how she and Goldstein process(ed) their pain, both individually and as a couple. In the afterword, she reminds us how to show up for each other, and what not to do or say when someone is in the depths of sorrow.
Havi taught her parents lessons not only about navigating grief, but also about living life with greater meaning and presence. Sack describes their life with Havi during COVID-19 isolation: “We are creating our own reality, one that is hyper-present and hyper-aware. Hugging, holding, kissing Havi feels imperative on a cellular level and I am immersed in her. I’ve never lived this way and it’s beautiful.”
Fifty-seven Fridays is a story of family, love, and the power of community, as well as a devastating yet hopeful meditation on loss. It will stay with readers long after they reach the final page.
Lindsey Bodner is a writer and an education foundation director. She lives in Manhattan with her family.