On March 1, 2018, I lost my 29-year old sister to a rare and vicious form of cancer — osteosarcoma of the cervical spine and throat. These were my words in her remembrance.
Language is hard. People often say — “There are no words.” And if I wanted to really convey how I felt, I’d leave it at that. But, of course, that’s not nearly enough.
I know unquestionably that there was not a single person on this planet more difficult for me to lose. I lost my baby sister, my life coach, my best friend, my co-guardian of our amazing baby brother Eli, my prom date(!), yes, my prom date! — all at the same time. I lost my other half — a part of me — my soul mate.
How does that make me feel? I really thought the relief that Sami was no longer suffering would outweigh the sorrow. I really thought that the numbness could last forever… but in reality, it didn’t last at all. It's been a journey of dizzying seasickness — one moment it's totally surreal, the next, it's all too real. It ripped a gaping hole in my heart. Most of the time… I simply feel like I’ve been robbed of 60+ years of shared memories, joy, laughter, and support that I will never get back.
And then I ask myself — What would Sami say?
“Write a new story,” Sami says.
“About what?” I would ask.
“Gratitude,” Sami would respond. “Gratitude to still be alive. Gratitude to have the opportunity to develop an even more special bond with our baby brother Eli. Gratitude to have been so close to somebody so special for 29 years.”
How do I know this is what Sami would say? Because Sami didn’t just have cancer — what Sami went through medically over the last ten years would have any other person on this planet cursing the skies. And yet Sami always found a way to write a new story… to find something to be grateful for.
The story of Sami’s journey would feel more appropriate as a parable — one of Aesop’s Fables — a story specifically designed to powerfully convey a valuable lesson.
And so, as Sami’s story goes: It’s the story of a young woman blessed with unparalleled natural beauty — inside and out.
Sometimes the Universe dealt her a particularly bad day — perhaps a dose of excruciating pain, a painstaking surgery, or treatment by radiation. Nonetheless, she turned to the Universe and thanked it anyway for being blessed with food on the table and water to drink. The Universe was impressed by her strength, and so it gave her a greater challenge to conquer.
And so in the first month, the Universe took her ability to swallow that food and sip that water. Samantha turned to the Universe again and thanked it anyway for the fresh air she could taste and breathe. The Universe — now beyond impressed — presented her with another… larger challenge.
And so in the second month, the Universe took her ability to breathe through her mouth and nose. But still — Samantha found fulfillment in inspiring others and showing them the inner peace that could be gained from gratitude. And so, she thanked the Universe anyway — for her voice and ability to articulate her message. “Wow,” the Universe said — a rare opportunity had opened up — an opportunity to make an even greater impact through this unfathomably strong vessel — this next challenge would require someone who possessed true magic.
And so in the third month, the Universe took her ability to speak, write and share her lessons with others. Samantha went silent, but visitors arrived in droves, and they all learned to read her lips. They played music, danced with her and laughed with her. And those visitors then went home and shared the story of the young woman — full of joy and gratitude despite the inability to eat, drink, breathe, speak or write. The Universe was now in awe — but it also knew her greatest fear… she had said it aloud many times — and it wondered if this magical being could possibly overcome the very thing she feared most.
And so in the fourth month, the Universe took her ability to walk and dance. Samantha was finally stunned — but surrounded by those she loved most, she still signaled everyone in her presence to express something they were grateful for that day. When it came to her turn, she expressed gratitude for waking up that morning. The Universe smiled. There was nothing left for Samantha to learn from this world. There was no room to grow further — at least on this plane of existence.
But in the fifth month, Samantha told the Universe she wanted to stay anyway — she wanted to make a difference in the suffering on this planet. The Universe told her she already had…. and proceeded to share endless magnificent stories of the impact she had already made. She had no idea the number of people she had inspired.
But in the sixth month, Samantha insisted that she wanted to continue to inspire people with the lessons of gratitude. If she were a shining example of continued gratitude despite her incomprehensible pain and suffering, she could continue to make a difference. The Universe realized that she could not possibly understand — at least not in this form. She was still beautiful — indeed, more beautiful than ever… smooth skin, wide eyes, a serene look on her face. But she was also a prisoner of a now-broken body anchored to a particular time and place.
And so in the seventh month, the Universe freed her from that plane, that body, that suffering, that time. Suddenly it all made sense. Samantha saw that no further suffering was necessary. Her miracle had already been performed. And her magic would ripple into eternity.
And so Samantha rested, surrounded by long-lost loved ones while watching over those still tethered to the world — at peace knowing that she would eventually greet them too.
Sami’s story can’t help but remind me of something out of the Torah — an impossible story with a profound lesson. It is living proof to me that there is something larger at work — that our souls are really more than we can see here on Earth — that we are eternal and we dip in and out of this world to teach and learn from one another.
And so let’s prove to the Universe that Sami taught us all something quite profound. Next time you take a bite of food, really taste it. Notice the texture. Try to identify the ingredients. Enjoy it before you swallow it. And then be grateful for the satisfaction that comes from being able to swallow it as well. Have gratitude for every bite, every sip, every breath, every itch, every word, every step, every sight, every sound.
And even without any of those very basic things to be grateful for, Sami has shown me that gratitude can still be found — the gratitude you should find while sleeping in the ICU where you can still laugh together despite the tireless beeping of machines and alarms in the background.
Even now, in the wake of her death, I can find gratitude that I got the opportunity to say goodbye. Gratitude that Samantha survived her first life-threatening encounter 10 years ago — we lived a lifetime between then and now. We were blessed with extra innings. In short, her final lesson was… no… is… that gratitude can be found anywhere, anytime. Sami is asking you to find it in every moment. Indeed, we now know that through gratitude, every moment has magic and miracles in it.
Samantha died for gratitude. Samantha suffered for gratitude. Samantha believed that gratitude could heal the soul, and Samantha knows that gratitude begets more gratitude — a ripple made up of waves of radiating gratitude. Samantha realized that by healing one soul, you end up healing a neverending cascade of souls. By sharing gratitude, we can truly heal the world.
And so, in honor of Sami, I seek beauty in the depths of my anguish. I spent more time with Sami in those 8 months than I likely would have otherwise spent with her in the entirety of the rest of my life. We made up for the lost time in advance. And while her quality of life during those 8 months was horrible, the love that surrounded her — the love between all of us — was so profoundly beautiful. In some ways, it is a tragic fact that it would be impossible to find that much beauty without such devastation. There is no light without dark, no warm without cold.
But as Sami beautifully captioned on one of her final Instagram posts:
“…instead of getting angry, just choose life the way it is… because its not any other way… like literally… this is it, its perfect, its not any other way, it is what it is, it isn’t what it isn’t, this is my life right now… and that’s it… and when you start choosing life the way it is, I think you can get some freedom because there’s no other way.”
No matter how profound or comforting, these thoughts and words don’t make my grief any more bearable. I miss my baby sister more than language can muster. There are truly no words. But I can sleep tonight knowing that I did my best to do justice to her spirit and the message she lived and died for. Samantha Michele Allen, I will miss you every single day for the rest of my life. I love you forever and ever.
