The essays in Caroline Sutton's subtle and wide-ranging collection depict the lasting impact of mothers on daughters, the shifting relations of parents and children over time, the ironies of marital life, and quandaries in the face of decline and death. Sutton brings startling perspectives to the everyday--from painting a room or getting on the wrong subway, to hitting 
a dazzling backhand or witnessing a lunar eclipse--and 
finds meaning in unlikely places. "Eclipsed" recounts Sutton's witnessing of a celestial event but simultaneously explores the waxing and waning of time within a marriage. "Water on Fire" limns a central family story: how the author's father survived the sinking of the U.S.S. Wasp during World War Two. "The Ghost Player" and "Tennis: Fort-Da " both portray the intricacies of the author's favorite sport but deftly reach epiphanies about perception, aspiration, and imagination. And a moving sequence of essays portrays Sutton's efforts to support and understand her difficult mother during the late stages of their relationship. Throughout this understated but powerful collection, DON'T MIND ME, I JUST DIED exposes the ephemeral nature of the things we gather and the homes we build while conceding our need to reconstruct the past and be cognizant of its fickle ambiguity.