I just finished this amazing book, The Revised Fundamentals of Caregiving, which I almost didn't read because I was daunted by the subject. 

In the first few pages of this book you get the basic set up:  a guy used to be married and some disaster happened; now alone and trying to pick up the pieces he takes a job caring for a teenage boy with muscular dystrophy. 

The elements of the story seem impossibly sad.  And I have few defenses against the sad.  So I have to be careful.  But then the book is not a sad book at all.  And not because it's some kind of goofy romp but just because it takes the sadness and uses it to connect up the reader, the characters, and everything you love about being human. 

This kind of thing always seems to me impossible and yet great novels do it all the time.  Thanks, novelists, for doing the impossible.  And readers:  go read this book. 
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