Anoopa Sharma

Hi,

This video is very tastefully done & edited.

Indeed, It truly brings out " The Essence" of what my dear niece was.

It helped me to understand her , even better, as a person in retrospect.

Dear Uttama's remarks about her being non- selfish & a sincere Seeker... in more ways than one, were an eye opener. Although I wiped my tears again ( & the wound of hurt was refreshed ), I realised that this was a

"true celebration" of ( & an honest, heartfelt, sincere Salute to...) her Magnificent Life !

I am Very proud of my sister Anita & brother in law Dennis Sharma, for having raised such an outstanding child !! Surely the pain of seperation is felt deeper ..than merely in the Heart. It shakes one to the very Soul. GOD must Truly Love her.. to recall her so soon.

The second thing I realised while at Birmingham Alabama, UAB NICU was that it was hurting her friends Amy, Beth, Zed ,Niroopa & countless others as much & as Deeply...as us family members.

May these sweet kids have the Best of our heart's blessings & an outstanding future. Indeed we ALL are linked together as a family thru this common bond of suffering.

Sincerely_Vineet Sharma, OH

Hi,

I am the Aunt of Anoopa. My name is Alpana Joshi and she was the Angel Donor of the Kidney which has given me a new lease of life and a roller coaster ride of awe, admiratioin and grief. It is as if I have become a part of her as much as she a part of me.

In Anoopa, we have lost a most beloved child and we can never recover from her loss. May her Soul rest in Peace.

I am dedicating a Poem in her memory. This Poem has been written by Beennie Lee Sinclair, a South Carolina Poet Luareate:

The Dying, the Donor, The Phoenix

1. Too soon, I find myself

dying, adrift

among mine who have

gone, in rooms of those houses

once known, anchored only

by tubes; a machine

And nearby, in the sweet

Georgia hills. a young woman

breathing her last

perhaps starts, then settles back

protesting: Not yet! Not yet! Not yet!

Such is the way life ends

2 Times Change. Against grief,

her body is bequeathed

to those desperate, who cling

by chance of another's passing.

On a May evening bright

with the wonder of firelfies

the call comes : like sisters,

our blood and tissues

match. As the helicopter

lifts from the hospital roof,

casting her forfeited loveliness

like that of a dissected angel

to far-flung operating rooms,

I become the first

she reprieves.

3. Waking

to the extraordinary pulse

of a future, I marvel the gift,

not yet defined in theosophy,

that I continue to exist

through her.

Conjoined. we have become

miraculous as the phoenix, borne

on our new wings, raised from ashes

by forces old as love and sacrfice,

recent as state-of-the-art technology.

Though a mere

biological trace, like the remnant

of a Siamese twin, she nevertheless

grants me breath. On the day

she is laid to rest, I know

I shall never be quite so alone,

or she so completely gone.

Such is the way life ends

and sometimes, begins.

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