SAGEET BAR-YAM — Sister
I have been thinking about Aureet.
We had a unique relationship both as children growing up and in our adulthood as sisters and friends. We were envied by many who did not have such closeness with a sibling or anyone for that matter. I miss her terribly.
Aureet and Sageet, 1983
Many people have been talking or writing about how Aureet helped them. This is of course of no surprise to me. I saw Aureet helping so many people in such diverse ways. I am sure that most of us are not even aware of much of it because she was modest and because helping people was so natural to her. She also chose her profession because of this quality. Aureet helped many of my friends with issues they discussed with her. She was very tactful in her ability not to take on a superior role or force her ideas on anyone. She would speak like a therapist only when asked, otherwise she knew how to remove herself from that role so that everyone was comfortable with her. Friends often sought her advice, because she had the right thing to say and would offer new insight and perspective on problems they had.
Even when I was still a child (she was five years older than I), Aureet treated me like a peer and equal. She always encouraged me to do my best and to be my own person. This was emphasized during certain points of my childhood when I particularly idolized her and wanted to be and act like her. She would tell me that she loved who I was and would reinforce my independent behavior. She was indeed my role model, my mentor. Aureet was my big sister.
In a letter Aureet sent to me from California, November 1975, when I was almost 13 and she was 18, she wrote:
Sageet, I know you love me very much. That makes me very happy, but remember one thing, I am me and you are you. Sageet, be yourself always. I know you don't know who you are, I don't think anyone really does. But don't try to be anyone else, just you. You look up to me a lot, I know. Just remember that what's right for me, the way I act, the way I am, the things I do are not necessarily right for you. I want you to grow up to be your own person with your own opinions. I know you will and that you'll always be a very special person, especially to me.
Aureet and Sageet Skiing at Killington, 1990
Sageet, age doesn't really mean that much; there is a lot I can learn from you and am learning from you, from your opinions, the way you feel about things, and from what happens to you. I learn from everything around me, from a blade of grass struggling to grow through a crack in the cement, from someone's dream, from a person's face, from everything around me.
In a letter Aureet sent me a year later, November 1976, she wrote:
…Learning is so much fun. A lot of school is a bunch of bull but it's a great place to learn and you shouldn't pass up the chance. …
Fix up the room so that it says you all over the place; posters you like, things you like. Think about who you are and what is important to you, then make the room represent you. Make it some place you really like to be and like to come home to. Use all your creativity. I never put much energy into that room; I am sorry I didn't. You are welcome to my clothes as long as you are careful with them. Again, decide who you are, or who you would like to be, and dress like that. Buy and make clothes to fit your impression of you. And if you think those purple corduroys say "you" than wear them as much as you like. Be what you want to be and do your own thing.
Aureet always looked out for my best interest. When meeting people, she would make me look good with her comments. She would reinforce what I said and add positive things about me that I was not able to say about myself - making me appear humble. Aureet herself was humble - she would not brag about her level of education or occupation, and showed respect for others regardless of theirs. For Aureet it was a natural part of her personality to make others feel good. We laughed a lot together and would often instigate a contagious wave of witty comments which easily rolled between us and often got others going too. This was easy to do together because we were so close and understood each other so well. There was no apprehension between us, as might be felt among some friends, because of concern over what could or couldn't be said. We were flexible with each other and were secure together - never offending or minimizing one another. We did not compete, as friends or siblings sometimes do, we worked together as a dynamic team and were inclusive in our interactions with other people. We were proud of our association. We were Bobsey twins - the "strawberry sisters" became our nickname at Club Med after we were dragged on stage for some kind of demonstration and happened to be wearing the same type of white dresses with similar design- mine with purple and hers with red berries. Dressing alike was not at all uncommon for us. We had a number of outfits (often purchased by our mother) which, although not identical, would provoke similar responses. We usually would confer about our clothing when going out together, making sure we matched even if the outfits were completely different. Aureet had excellent taste in color and style and was often consulted by family members about aesthetic matters. We shared many of our clothes and there were many times that she would tell me to simply keep an item because she saw that I liked it. Aureet was generous with her time, her energy and her things.
Aureet and I were best friends. We lived together for almost two years before she died. I clearly remember the last time I saw Aureet. It was in the morning when she prepared coffee for us and then went to walk Flame (her Golden Retriever) in the park across the street. I can still visualize her waving good-bye from the park that day as I was leaving the house with the travel mug she got me. Walking Flame each morning and making coffee were not Aureet's only morning activities. Being a 'night person,' I could never fully comprehend how she did so much in the morning - before work. A full, advanced level, Jane Fonda workout with the VCR, shower, fresh brewed coffee for both of us, a leisurely cup of coffee on the porch (weather permitting) and a walk with Flame - the full turn around the ball park (regardless of the weather). She would even trudge through a blizzard with Flame in order to make sure he got his share of outdoor activity. Aureet would walk Flame in the morning, during her lunch break, after work, and before going to sleep. She loved Flame tremendously; however, on occasion after a long tiring night and bad weather, Aureet would jokingly say: "sometimes I wish he was a fish." She walked him regardless. She would never impose on me to do any of it for her (nor did she impose on me to water her jungle of plants).
Since I often skipped lunches at work, it was always a welcome break when she would call me using our cordless phone, almost daily, as she walked with Flame around the park. She could reach 3/4 of the way down the park before the phone failed and would have to call me back again on the way back. Since we both had very busy schedules we would often find such bits of time where we could talk. Sometimes I would join her for the evening walk. Under the stars and moon, this was always a tranquil time to share stories and discuss various issues. Also, on many nights we would end the evening on either her bed or mine, with Flame sprawled on most of the bed. We would sometimes chat endlessly, as if at a slumber party, until we would decide it was time to sleep. Occasionally we would talk while she relaxed in the bathtub. She loved taking baths. It was also one of the places she enjoyed reading books.
