My boyfriend Daniel and I were sitting on a couch across from Eran Solomon, a marriage and family counselor, for our first session.
The year was 2013. We had just moved from New York to Los Angeles, and it was hard on us. We didn’t have enough work, we lived in a depressing apartment, we had few friends and, on top of everything else, I was pursuing an Orthodox Jewish conversion – and Daniel was not happy about it. We had been fighting so much that Daniel had packed up a bag and told me he was going to leave me several times. I always cried and begged him to stay. He would, but it would inevitably get bad again, and we’d be back to fighting in no time. We knew we were in an unhealthy loop, and so here we were on the couch, meeting with a therapist to try to make things better.
After we each listed the problems we had with the other person, I thought, “We’re doomed. This relationship is over.” And then Eran, a soft-spoken Israeli man just a few years older than Daniel, clasped his hands together and took a deep breath.
“We can work with this,” he told us, looking us in the eye, smiling ever so slightly.
“Do you think there’s hope for us?” I said, tears streaming down my face.
“Yes,” he said. “It will get messy. You’ll have to put in the work. But we can get you on a better path so you can move forward.”
Daniel and I kept going back to therapy week after week. Eran showed us why we were fighting so much and gave us tips on how to express our needs and talk respectfully to one another. Over time, I started to see that when Daniel and I fought, it wasn’t as hard. Slowly, we figured out how to communicate better. We both became fully committed to making our relationship work, with Eran’s help.
I credit Eran for saving our relationship and getting us to my conversion and our chuppah. He was our therapist for three years, and the best therapist Daniel and I ever had. His analysis was so smart, his approach so soft and kind. We would not have three wonderful Jewish children today if not for Eran.
I learned that he suddenly became ill and passed away on Sunday, April 6, leaving behind his soulmate, his beautiful wife Anat, and two teenage sons. He was only 50 years old.
Upon hearing this tragic news, I immediately asked Hashem, “Why do you have to take the nicest people so soon?” When things like this happen, when a wife and two young sons lose their amazing father, who did so much good, I can’t help but ask why.
After we ended therapy, we still saw Eran sometimes since he lived in our community. Once, a mutual friend invited us all for a meal; when Daniel and I got there and saw Eran, we were surprised.
Our friend said, “Eran, meet Daniel and Kylie.” Eran shook Daniel’s hand and said, “Nice to meet you.” His precocious eight-year-old son looked up at him and said, “Daddy, do you know this man?” Eran gave us a knowing smile and patted his son on the shoulder.
Another time, a few years later, Daniel saw Eran at Simchat Torah at shul a week after we had our first child, Sophia. In between the loud singing and the dancing with the Torahs, Daniel yelled, “Eran! We just had our first baby, our beautiful daughter Sophia!” Eran was so happy for us he had tears in his eyes and gave Daniel a big hug.
If Eran had this much of an impact on us, how many other relationships did he save? How many people did he bring back from the brink and give them hope, and make them want to live?
Eran clearly lived a meaningful life. Even though he is not here anymore, his work will live on, through me, through Daniel, through our children, and all the other people who were touched by this beautiful soul.
May Eran Solomon’s neshama have an aliyah, and may his family be comforted at this time.
You can support Anat Solomon and her sons by donating to her GoFundMe: gofundme.com/f/support-anat-solomon-after-tragic-loss
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