Birth date: Aug 16, 1961 Death date: Jul 14, 2025
Sangeeta Desai, born August 16,1961, passed away in Great Falls, VA on July 14, 2025. She is survived by her husband Vijay, sons Ankur and Tarun, brother Samir, nieces and nephews, Ankit, Pranav, Neal, and Andrea, and granddaughte Read Obituary
Sangeeta was always such a calm and warm presence. I remember starting my first day at work, fresh out of school and nervous. I didn't know anyone, and felt very shy when approaching new colleagues. Sangeeta came up to me while I roamed the halls and asked me if I needed any help with getting started. From there is was just so easy, she had such a way with people and immediately made me feel comfortable. She gave me so much valuable advice for my career, but also took time to get to know me on a personal level. My favorite memory is our walks around the pond during lunch time. She was always advocating for exercise and being active. I was always impressed with her ability to make connections and social presence. During our walks she would wave and say hi to almost every person we passed by. Almost everyone seemed to know who she was, and we are all so lucky to have experienced her friendship and kindness. I will miss her deeply. Sending my condolences to her family and friends
Sangeeta my dear friend I am shocked and sad. You have left us so early in life. Little did I know that when I last talked to you in March it would be our last conversation. We met through our work and over the years became the closest of friends. We did not meet in person often but would talk for hours on the phone. We shared our trepidations, our challenges, the high points in our lives, memories from working together, our futures, but mostly we talked about our children and families. So often we told each other how much we loved talking to each other! You were someone I could open my heart out to and I was blessed that you felt the same. Sangeeta I will miss our conversations but mostly I will miss you, your warmth, your laughter and your voice on the phone. May you have peace. May Vijay and the rest of us have the strength to go on without you. Om Shanti.
Terribly sorry for your loss Vijay. My thoughts go to you and your family.
Our hearts are heavy as we remember our dear friend Sangeeta, whom we had the privilege of knowing for nearly three decades. Her presence was a quiet blessing—graceful, thoughtful, and profoundly caring in every way.
Over the years, Sangeeta became part of our extended family. Though she didn’t often cook non-vegetarian meals herself, we shared a lighthearted foodie bond. Whenever I prepared a special dish, she’d always ask, with a twinkle in her eye, “When do I get to taste it?” And we’d gladly drop off servings for her and the boys—she appreciated those little moments so deeply, and it gave us joy to share them with her.
What truly set Sangeeta apart was her compassion. She held a special place in her heart for seniors, and never hesitated to offer support. On multiple occasions, she stayed at our home to lovingly care for my mother while we traveled. It was never asked—it was simply her way.
The world has lost a gem. But her kindness, laughter, and gentle spirit remain etched in our hearts.
Our hearts are heavy as we remember our dear friend Sangeeta, whom we had the privilege of knowing for nearly three decades. Her presence was a quiet blessing—graceful, thoughtful, and profoundly caring in every way.
Over the years, Sangeeta became part of our extended family. Though she didn’t often cook non-vegetarian meals herself, we shared a lighthearted foodie bond. Whenever I prepared a special dish, she’d always ask, with a twinkle in her eye, “When do I get to taste it?” And we’d gladly drop off servings for her and the boys—she appreciated those little moments so deeply, and it gave us joy to share them with her.
What truly set Sangeeta apart was her compassion. She held a special place in her heart for seniors, and never hesitated to offer support. On multiple occasions, she stayed at our home to lovingly care for my mother while we traveled. It was never asked—it was simply her way.
The world has lost a gem. But her kindness, laughter, and gentle spirit remain etched in our hearts.
Sangeeta, my dear friend—
You left far too soon, and this realization is hitting hard that we won’t grow old together like we always thought we would.
I will miss our phone conversations, those calls that often became long, meandering chats—about family, politics, health, and just life. There was lot of sharing and caring in those chats. And if a few days went by without a word, you’d reach out, hey just checking in, all ok?
Your way of showing up through those caring check-ins, thoughtful understanding and just being there - is your beautiful lasting gift.
You found meaningful ways to bring our Nbee family closer and grow together like starting Geeta sessions and planning park walks during COVID. The beautiful memories of our many gatherings and outings filled with soul baring conversations, easy laughter, and a deep, comforting bond, will always remain in my heart.
There will be many times I’ll miss you, Sangeeta—in big milestones and tiny, ordinary moments. Thank you for your wonderful friendship, caring and quiet understanding.
May your gentle, beautiful soul rest in peace and light. You will forever hold a very special place in my heart.
Thanksgiving 2022 and 2024 - we'll keep a bingo card aside for you this year, Sangeeta Aunty.
Lots of love,
Milu
Hi I would like to say a few words on behalf of the friends group that is known by many as the NBEE. Many of us had the privilege of knowing Sangeeta for nearly three decades when our kids went to elementary school together.
Under Sangeeta’s ultra-calm demeanor was a woman deeply passionate about the well-being of everyone in her orbit. She always found meaningful ways to grow us together as a group. She started our group Geeta sessions, planned weekly group walks during Covid, and even initiated table tennis rounders for exercise when we met indoors.
Sangeeta was uniquely Sangeeta- full of contradictions and yet as even keel and poised as they come.
For example, while she was practical beyond words and completely unafraid of death, put her on a road trip that involved bridges, and she could barely hold it together. The Chesapeake bay bridge was the most intimidating one - she called it her OMG bridge.
On one hand she kicked started many deep and serious discussions, and on the other she introduced us to romcom K-dramas and actively encouraged Punam’s makeup and Chitra’s dance initiatives. She didn’t often cook non-vegetarian meals herself, but always demanded to try any special dishes Atul prepared. She loved custard because it reminded her of her mom but scolded Vijay about his health whenever he attempted to eat sweets. She preferred chatting on the phone but also wrote deeply personal and profound letters to her sons. While she often came across as a social butterfly, she was, at heart, a genuine introvert. Her anxiety would spike if she had more than one social event a day on her calendar. She had an untapped wild side too- hanging back on taking the lead, but always the first to agree to anything crazy one of us suggested.
She thrived on quiet, meaningful one-on-one time, and she made sure to make that kind of time with each of us. She was such an expert on all things medical that she was appointed our groups “resident PCP”. Sangeeta was one of the rare people who bridged generations effortlessly. She always made time for the youth and elders in our families, genuinely interested in their lives and stories. She did not think twice about spending nights and keeping Atul’s mom company when we were traveling. Sangeeta loved dogs but never kept one, choosing instead to babysit those of her friends, including our Ellie and Zazu, many times for days on end.
Sangeeta leaves us with countless memories - sleepovers with late night chats, long walks and hikes, road trips to Bethany Beach and the Outer Banks, getaways to the Caribbean and most importantly: so so many near-daily exchanges, especially if someone was in poor health.
It feels impossible to imagine how we will survive the void she leaves. We had planned to live out our golden years together in a Quad, never planned to live with just her memories. We will miss her presence in so many countless moments, big and small. We will miss her eye rolls that spoke volumes. We will miss her poori aloo and pakoras at every picnic and pot luck. We will miss her investment inquiries whenever the stock market fluctuates. We will miss her every time we have Sanjiv’s desi ginger tea. We will miss Chitra not having to bring fresh curry leaves from her garden any more. We will miss her suggestions of songs to choreograph. We will miss her stern but loving “about time!” whenever we pick up the phone. We will miss her constant help - like midnight runs to Mayank’s house to help him open a child proof bottle of Tylenol. We will miss her “god bless” at the end of every conversation.
But survive we shall - because survive we have to. Sangeeta still lives and will always live in our hearts forever.
