Anahit (Anna) Sagatelian passed away on January 25, 2022 in White Plains, NY, nearly two months shy of her 94th birthday. She is survived by her daughters Marguerite Sagatelian and Betty Sagatelian Ortiz; her son-in-law Cesar Ortiz; her grandchildren Sofia Raquel and Isabella Mia; her brother Karnig Alajajian and sister-in-law Alice Simonian Alajajian; her sister Sonia and brother-in-law John Bezdikian; her nephew and his wife Veh and Arpi Bezdikian; her niece Hooshere and her husband Garin Kaligian, their children and members of her extended family. The following are reflections about my mother’s life, adapted from the eulogy I delivered at her funeral service on January 30, 2022.
A mere recitation of Mom’s life events would be boring, and Mom was anything but boring. These few aspects stand out to me because they define the person that she was.
Mom was an immigrant who grew to love her adopted country. She was born in Alexandria, Egypt on March 21, 1928 to Agnes and Vahan Alajajian. She was the oldest of three children; she grew up with her younger brother Karnig and her much younger sister Sonia. Mom would describe her life in Alexandria as idyllic. She would go to the beach just about every day after school and swim in the temperate waters of the Mediterranean. Mom loved to swim, and she especially loved the ocean. Mom attended a French-Catholic school and was fluent in French, her favorite language after Armenian. She also spoke English with a charming accent that was half French, half Armenian.
Mom married Dad in 1954 in Alexandria. Dad was already a US citizen, having served in WWII. We don’t really know much about their courtship, except that it was short. He was 16 years older than her. Mom said that Dad had come to Egypt several years before, when she was barely 18 or 19, and he had tried to court her then. At that time, Mom had no interest in getting married. When Dad returned to Alexandria in 1954, Mom was under pressure to marry because she was 25 years old (which was old in those days), and she said yes to Dad this time because her parents told her that Dad was established, employed and a US citizen.
Dad returned to the United States right after their honeymoon. Mom followed a few months later via an ocean liner. She had a first-class passage for this cruise, which spanned several weeks. Mom said she had a wonderful time. Her arrival into New York Harbor, however, was something of a shock. She had left beautiful, temperate Alexandria and had arrived in ugly, dirty and cold New York City. One of Dad’s first purchases for her was a coat!
Mom was resilient, however, and grew to love New York City and the United States once she became a naturalized citizen. She facilitated the immigration of her mother, her siblings and cousins. After Dad died in 1980, Mom remained a widow, declaring that she had taken care of a man once, and had no intention of doing so again!
Mom loved Armenian culture and was devoted to the Armenian church. My sister and I were raised in the Armenian Apostolic Church. In those days, our church was St. Illuminator’s on East 27th Street in Manhattan. Mom also volunteered for a few years at the Nassau County Art Museum. She loved to sing and was a beautiful soprano. For a brief period, she secretly took operatic singing lessons.
During the 1964-1965 World’s Fair in Flushing, New York, Mom and her siblings performed in the chorus and in the folk-dance ensemble dressed in Armenian daraz. Mom, Aunt Sonia, Betty and I later became members of the Hamazkayin Armenian Chorus and performed at Alice Tully Hall at Lincoln Center.
When she moved to her apartment in Bayside, Mom became a faithful member of the St. Sarkis Church choir. She also attended Bible study classes.
Mom loved to travel, dance and socialize. From 1980 through 2008, Mom traveled often. She loved adventure. She went to Europe, Australia, Egypt, the Caribbean and cities across the US. She accompanied Betty to business conventions. She especially enjoyed the ones in Palm Springs, Seattle and Hawaii. Betty remembers Mom as a social butterfly at these events; she was gregarious and so well-liked that whenever Betty attended a convention, Betty’s colleagues would ask for Mom.
Mom also accompanied Betty, a ballroom dance instructor, on dance cruises. Mom loved to dance and took every opportunity to socialize. She even flirted at times with handsome crew members. On one particular cruise, the seas were so rough that nearly everyone on-board became ill – everyone, that is, except Mom. She decided to get dressed and go to dinner, and later reported that she enjoyed a sumptuous repast with the ship’s captain.
One year, Mom and I took a river boat cruise in France from Paris to Nice. In Paris one night, instead of going out to dinner, we picked up a baguette, some cheese and a bottle of red wine for an outdoor picnic. It was so much fun! Mom enjoyed conversing with the tour guides and locals in French. I, on the other hand, had a dictionary and book of phrases and struggled to form sentences, even though I had been nearly fluent in French when I graduated high school. Nonetheless, it was a wonderful trip, and it warmed my heart to see Mom so happy.
Some of her trips, unfortunately, turned into crises. On a 2004 trip to Cairo, Egypt, for a Nile River cruise, Mom fell and fractured her hip. She twisted her bowel when she fell, resulting in a gangrenous mass that had to be surgically removed. The details of the multi-week crisis in Cairo could fill a book. My sister and I arrived on the scene first, and then Uncle Karl joined us a few weeks later. At the Cairo hospital, Mom developed pneumonia, spent several weeks with a less than normal oxygen saturation, suffered a blood clot that caused permanent damage to one of her lungs, and had to be flown back to the US under extremely precarious medical circumstances. There was a good chance that she would develop another blood clot and possibly die during the 11-hour flight. Miraculously, she survived all of that, and even thrived for a while, albeit with less mobility.
But in 2008, while in Montreal for her nephew and godson Veh’s wedding to Arpi, Mom fell again and fractured her pelvis. Again, we arranged for emergency transport back to NY. At that point, we decided to confiscate her passport, convinced that Mom should no longer leave the United States!
Mom was a force of nature. She was formidable – large and in charge. We’d also refer to her as a “field marshal.” She was bossy, direct and honest. She did not suffer fools gladly, and she had an opinion about everything. She was also almost totally devoid of tact. Mom always said that she was simply being frank; most of the time, she had no clue about the impact of her words. I don’t think she would have made it as a diplomat!
I remember when I had just purchased a new car. She asked, “What color is it?” I said “Blue.” “Blue?” she said, with clear disapproval. “Why would you pick such a color?” I told her I like the color blue and then asked her why she purchased a tan-colored car. After a moment she said, begrudgingly, “Well, if you really like it, I guess it’s okay.”
On another occasion, we were in Mom’s car with a couple of cousins, when Mom told one of them that she was getting too fat. The recipient of the comment laughed it off, while Betty and I were mortified!
One day, when Betty and I visited Mom, we looked at old photographs and remarked how photogenic Mom was. Her immediate response was: “I am not photogenic. I am pretty!” In fact, she was more than pretty; she was beautiful.
When Mom lived in her Bayside apartment, her sister would visit almost daily, sometimes running errands for her. On many occasions, Mom would bluntly tell Sonia that she had bought the wrong item or the wrong brand. I asked Aunt Sonia why she took that much criticism without argument. She said she knew Mom meant no harm, and they loved each other. Whenever I visited, I could see the special bond they had. Even now, I can almost smell the Armenian coffee they shared daily.
For many years, Mom was a jewelry salesperson. You would think that someone as blunt as Mom would not succeed in such a profession. And yet, she did. Her customers liked the fact that she told the truth. If something did not look good, she would say so, and suggest something perhaps more appropriate.
Mom was devoted to her family and community. She did not fit the mold of a mother described in countless Hallmark cards. She was tough, hard to please and generally not nurturing in the way you might expect of a mother. She could even be hurtful at times, probably because she herself was hurt by others. There is no doubt, however, that she loved Betty and me in her own way. She did the best she could, given how and where she was raised, and the circumstances she faced as a mother and wife.
Mom was the matriarch of the family and hosted almost all holiday gatherings. I miss her hors d’oeuvres…vegetarian stuffed grape leaves, lentil kufte and cheese boreg. I also miss her desserts…butter cookies, choreg and anoushabour.
She loved her son-in-law Cesar. She was beyond thrilled when her grandchildren Sofia Raquel and Isabella Mia came into the world in 2010. In 2011, as her world began to close in when she developed Alzheimer’s disease, nothing meant more to Mom than cuddling with her grandchildren. In the many photos we have of Mom and the girls, Mom is smiling and showing so much tenderness.
Mom was devoted to the Armenian community. She was a longtime member of the Armenian Relief Society (ARS) “Mayr” Chapter. She supported Armenian schools, like Holy Martyrs Armenian Day School. She supported the Armenian church and Armenian organizations such as AGBU and Hamazkayin. In 2008, she was named Mother of the Year by ARS “Mayr” Chapter.
She helped her friends and family in need. She drove sick relatives to their medical appointments, including some who needed regular chemotherapy treatments; she called on the sick and the homebound and visited old age homes. She also sponsored an orphan in Armenia.
Until the pandemic, Mom seemed to accept living at a nursing home with an unexpected measure of grace. In 2014, she fell again and fractured her spine and damaged her spinal cord. She ended up in the hospital and almost died. But God had other plans for her. Mom was released to the Martine Center in White Plains, NY. The initial goal was physical therapy, as we still had hope she might recover and return to her apartment. Following an ultimately unsuccessful attempt at rehabilitation, she became a permanent resident. Mom’s physical capacity diminished once they stopped physical therapy, and she soon became wheelchair bound and needed assistance with all activities of living.
When she was admitted at the Martine Center, we wondered how the blunt Anna would interact with the staff members there, who were mostly Black. I was afraid she was going to make some remark that would be perceived as racist, not because she had ill will toward Black people, but simply because her manner of speaking was so blunt. After all, this was the woman who once told one of my friends, upon learning that she was Jewish, “that’s ok,” as if being Jewish was a disadvantage Mom was willing to overlook.
Surprisingly, though, the “field marshal” Anna turned into the sweetest and most polite resident. Her primary aide, aptly named Pearl, took such good care of Mom. Mom seemed to think the nursing home was a large group house. She thought the “mother” of the house was one of the older aides, and all the younger aides were her daughters. In a way, it seemed as though the dementia smoothed out Mom’s rough edges. Of course, the bossy Anna sometimes appeared, such as when she would direct me to the elevator following a visit so I could take her back to her floor. I guess she thought I forgot the way!
She loved the live musical programs, and whenever Betty or I visited, we would play music for her on our iPhones. During the six years preceding the pandemic, Betty visited Mom almost every day. I came up from Washington, DC, every month for a long weekend.
Betty would often bring her children, which gave Mom so much joy. Cesar would play YouTube videos of Vahe Berberian, which made her laugh. During the first few years at the Martine Center, Mom knew who we were, though she sometimes mixed up our names and our relationships to her. Other family members also visited her periodically, especially her sister and brother, and cousin Valentine (now deceased) and her husband Antranig. Father Karekin Kasparian, then pastor of St. Gregory the Enlightener Armenian Church, also visited her several times and prayed with her. On one such visit, Father Mesrob Hovsepyan, the current pastor of St. Gregory, accompanied him.
As her cognition declined over time, she interacted less and less, and soon did not know who we were, but as late as December 2019, she was still responsive to music. The pandemic took a heavy toll on her. Even though Betty visited with Mom via video chat several times a week, the isolation and lack of stimulation hastened Mom’s cognitive and physical decline. She began to eat less and less, and soon developed several infections, which her body ultimately could not fight. We had seen Mom overcome the odds against so many adversities during her life, it was hard to believe that she could not fight any longer.
Mom wished she could fly like a bird. One of her favorite songs was “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” When asked why, she pointed to these lyrics: “Someday I’ll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me. Where troubles melt like lemon drops away above the chimney tops, that’s where you’ll find me. Somewhere, over the rainbow, bluebirds fly. Birds fly over the rainbow; why, then, oh why can’t I?”
Well, Mom, your spirit has taken flight. Soar like an eagle to be with your loved ones in heaven! But, maybe, don’t boss everyone around so much.
We love you, Mom, and you will always be in our hearts!
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