How My Life's Worst Loss Became My True North Star
"I still have a broken heart, yet through my pain I have found immense purpose. Helping people to suffer less is what drives me now. And I know she's proud."
By Amy Salman
It was the celebration of my sister’s fourteenth birthday. I was just 10 years old. All I recall was everyone suddenly being rushed out of my house because my mother became ill. I remember feeling terrified and running to the other end of the house to hide.
The next morning, I awoke to my mother screaming in pain. I was curled up in my bed under the covers, peeking out over the top of my blanket. I saw my father rushing my mother out of their bedroom, she in her favorite blue night gown with his arms wrapped around her body. I never saw my mother again.
Moments after my father left with my mother for the hospital, my aunt came to get me and my sister. When we were back at my aunt’s house, I remember being told that my mother had food poisoning and she would be staying in the hospital for the week. I was devastated by the news that I would not be seeing her for an entire week. Seven days seemed like an eternity.
A few hours later, as I was downstairs playing with my cousins, I heard my sister let out a scream. I ran upstairs to see what was happening — she was hysterical. I asked what was wrong and my aunt just looked at me and told me that my mom was dead.
I couldn’t even comprehend what was happening. My sister and I were taken to the hospital to be with my father. We asked to see our mom, but it was too late. My father let us know that he said goodbye for all of us. That was it. There was no food poisoning. The doctors were wrong. It was acute leukemia. By the time they had taken her blood, it had spread throughout her body and there was nothing left to do. My mother, 39 years old, was gone.
My father, sister and I went back home and just stared into the abyss. We had no understanding of what just happened and certainly no understanding and what to do now. My dad was the guy who gave me piggy back rides to bed every night. What was he going to do with two little girls? And what were we going to do without our mom?
The world we once knew was no more.
After the funeral and sitting shiva, our world became so quiet. Where did everyone go? Did they forget about us? It was as though everyone had disappeared. I never felt so alone.
Our once smiling faces didn’t exist any longer. I remember looking back at photos of our family on vacation. The love and joy on our faces was contagious. The rabbi had bragged about the love between my parents after she died. I then looked at a photo from my cousin’s bat-mitzvah with me, my dad and my sister. Three miserable humans. You know that expression: a picture is worth a thousand words. Not enough in this case.
This once loving, happy family was turned upside down. Three people that were now shadows of themselves. Instead of coming together, we fell apart. My mother was the glue. She was our strength. We slowly unraveled.
Life at home became chaotic. We were all in tremendous pain and did not know how to express it in a healthy way. We did not have the tools. The stress took a heavy toll on us. My sister turned to alcohol, while I was eating Mrs. Smith’s cherry pie — by the pie.
We didn’t talk about things in my home. It was strange. The most important woman in our lives had just died, yet we never talked about her.
We tried to resume our normal family activities. We went on vacation, but it was a disaster. We tried to go out to dinners, but would only end up fighting in the restaurants. It was embarrassing. We had tried family therapy, but that didn’t work for us either.
But one day, my sister, who was initially resistant to therapy, decided she wanted to return. This time it took, and she stuck with it. Ultimately, on her own, she stopped drinking and using drugs in college. My sister turned her life around. She graduated summa cum laude and went on to get a masters in psychology.
She initiated a lot of the communication with my father. My father, who was a closed book, started to open up more. My father and I would fly to CA to visit my sister and we would sit down and talk about the past. We would cry a lot together. My dad even flew back and forth to CA to go to therapy with my sister. My sister uses her work to help others heal and I believe that also helps her too.
What I learned from sharing stories over the years with my sister is that even though we lived in the same house, our experiences and memories were vastly different.
My struggles were different than hers too. While she turned to alcohol and drugs to deal with her pain, I turned to food. I didn’t know what I was doing or that this was even a thing. I always had a big appetite, so reaching for food seemed harmless. But when I’d eat a whole container of ice cream or bag of chips — I wouldn’t connect it with how I was feeling. I was on autopilot and stayed in this emotional state for a long time.
It wasn’t until a boss who I was very close with recommended I see a therapist. I was 30 years old. Everyone in my office at the time was also seeing this person. It seemed strange, but I went to see Barbara. I absolutely hated Barbara. I would sit in her office for 45 minutes in silence and then write her a check.
I eventually found Eileen. I was in and out of therapy with her for many years. She helped me to understand some of my behaviors and this was when I learned that my eating was really about how I was feeling emotionally.
Through my work with Eileen, I also learned about my thyroid issues and spent a lot of time discussing what I wanted to do with my life as far as work and how I would heal. I became a much better communicator and much more open to speaking about my past. I had never before talked about my mom or her death.
After my diagnosis with Hashimoto’s disease, the suffering from chronic pain and digestive issues and sugar addiction, I realized traditional doctors were not helping me. So I looked for other answers myself, and eventually healed my body using a food-first intervention and weaning myself completely off all medications.
After that life-altering experience, I ultimately decided to leave my 20-year corporate career and launch The Wellness Map. My life is now about helping other people to heal naturally from stress, autoimmune diseases, chronic conditions and releasing weight.
One thing I learned about loss is that the pain never goes away. You learn how to live with it differently at different phases of your life. I still have a broken heart, and I know my dad and sister do too. Yet through my pain I have found immense purpose. Helping people to suffer less is what drives me. I want every person I work with to find health and happiness in ways they never imagined possible.
As far as how I feel today when I think of my mom — she is always with me, guiding me. I hold all of the memories close and the things she taught me for the 10 years I was so lucky to have her as my mother. I know she’s proud.
AMY SALMAN is a Holistic Nutritionist, Wellness & Recovery Coach and Founder of The Wellness Map. She is also a coach and board advisor for the Lean In mentoring program.
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