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A Piece of My Mind
May 1, 2018


Author Affiliations
  • 1Boston, Massachusetts
JAMA. 2018;319(17):1767-1768. doi:10.1001/jama.2018.4147

A decade ago, I used to go on walks. Drunken walks. In those days, gin was my companion, my confidante, my comfort. I would go to a pond near my home, then across the street to a cemetery. There is a place in the cemetery called the “City of Angels.” The baby plots. I would go there often, even though my infant son does not have a grave there, or anywhere for that matter. I would clean up the grave sites and put the toys and flowers and other mementos back to where they belonged after being blown around by the wind.