This was the saddest book I have ever read. I have a headache from crying for the last two hours. The writing was beautiful, and I need to get myself together so that I can call my mother and my father and my sisters and my brother and tell them I love them. I need to make sure not to speed on the way to work so that I can squeeze my nephew Liam on Easter since he doesn't really participate in conversation yet. I need to visit my Nana when I'm home and squeeze her because hugs are her only conversation. And I think it wouldn't be a bad idea if I wrote a few letters before I leave for Luanda.

Luckily, I read this book in springtime, when the birds are chirping and the trees are exploding with green and June is busting out all over, so to speak.

How do lightbulbs work? ... sigh.

What a beautiful, terrible, terribly beautiful book.