The Pill That Promises to Cure Grief

The Pill That Promises to Cure Grief

I came to know grief from the bad breath—the dry mouth, the fatigue, the nausea. I was twenty-one when my father died of brain cancer. At first, the corporeal sensations were all I could manage. At the time, I wrote in my journal that grief felt like an infinite black ocean with no horizon: some days I drowned, some days I had a small rowboat. Now, grief is something I’ve simply learned to live with, even on days when it feels as fresh as in the…