Thanksgiving 2025
Dad’s Surprising Life
The Third Surprise—Having Lunch with My Daughter Sarah—November 29
As my dad and I exited the highway ramp for La Paz Avenue in Mission Viejo, I noticed a man with a cup pointed towards us and the other vehicles waiting for the stoplight to turn green. The man appeared to be homeless, looking for donations. This was the Saturday after Thanksgiving, what I would consider the biggest food day of the year in the United States. We were coming back from driving to Los Angeles to see my daughter Sarah, where earlier in the day we had met her at a Vietnamese restaurant called Gingergrass. The food was scrumptious. Meeting up with Sarah, whom dad hadn’t seen in quite some time, was the third surprise for my father over the past ten days.
Dad will be 97 on March 13, 2026, and I want his remaining time to be full of experiences which help him, at least temporarily, to forget about his numerous aches, the fact that his body doesn’t function as how he might like, his slowness in moving (although he propels himself fairly well with his red walker), and his hallucinations due to Charles Bonnet Syndrome and Macular Degeneration. Having fun experiences enables dad to slip out of any malaise from having an old body and spending too much time watching television. He is very sociable and although it is now difficult for him, he has always loved spending time with other people.
Many times, our days feel like the movie “Groundhog Day,” that feeling when you seem to be doing the same thing over and over, the typical breakfast, the meds, cleaning up, etc. On Saturday morning though I gave dad a hug, not an ordinary perfunctory one but more like the ones that you give somebody when you can really feel them close to you. It felt different to me, as if, I was truly seeing and feeling him and not just starring in another Groundhog Day. This hug was filled with a lot of emotion.
Later on in the morning dad asked me how I got rid of the flies on his bedroom ceiling. I went along with this as best I could, as the flies were one of his hallucinations. He often sees people in the home that he has graciously allowed me to share, as I do my best to take care of him. On the drive back from meeting up with Sarah, he told me that he saw a woman running across four lanes on the highway. After we arrived home, while helping him with a shower, he said that he felt his wife (my mom) sitting next to him in the car. When we feel the presence of or see loved ones that have passed it means that we are getting closer to them, as if, somehow, they are reaching out for us and us for them.
Although dad has hallucinations, he also has many moments of sharpness. I didn’t tell him that we were going to see Sarah, just that we were out for a drive. But when we were close to her neighborhood he said, “we’re going to see Sarah.” He remembered streets in the Silver Lake area of Los Angeles where Sarah lives. Although his eyesight has been stressed, he still directs me when we are driving in and around Mission Viejo.
Sarah, dad, and I sat at an outside table at Gingergrass and one of the songs playing at the restaurant was, “Back on the Chain Gang” by the Pretenders. It’s a very infectious pop song written in 1982 after the death of the 25-year-old lead guitarist James Honeyman-Scott due to a drug overdose. (The original bass player Pete Farndon died at the age of 30 in 1983 also of an overdose.) It’s a truly wonderful reflection on loss, the emotional struggles of life, the pressure put on all of us by society, and ultimately the resilience to go on with life even after suffering great tragedy. Observing Sarah and my dad and thinking further about my life and others the song seemed perfect for the different stages of life that we all go through. It also reminded me of the healing that occurs in each of us as we open ourselves up and let others in.
As we sat around the table I observed Sarah as somebody who possesses a great deal of empathy. She has spent a good amount of time with her soon to be 98-year-old grandmother Naomi in Connecticut, often taking care of her. I saw her caregiving skills as she helped my dad in numerous ways while we were eating.
This third surprise for my dad was wonderful with loving company and good food, including leaving Sarah with some leftovers that I had made from Thanksgiving a couple days before. I also gave Sarah my first original windchime creation.
The Second Surprise—Thanksgiving—November 27
This year with my sister and her husband having moved to India on November 6th, I decided to make a Thanksgiving dinner for my father and some friends as I thought it was important to keep some type of tradition alive for him. Although not really one to follow traditions and having never made any sort of Thanksgiving meal I decided that I would do both. It was to be the second surprise for my dad in providing opportunities for joy and spending moments with others in whatever time he has left on earth.
It’s not that I particularly think of the origin of the “holiday” in positive terms because it was devastating to Native Americans and the stories we’ve been told are mostly lies. When Abraham Lincoln proclaimed[1] a day of Thanksgiving it was in the midst of the Civil War, 1863. This made sense that although “Americans” were killing one another there was still reason to give thanks and I do feel that Lincoln was one of our greatest presidents.
As I thought about what I would make I knew that the main course would be a vegan roast which I purchased from Sprouts. I had called the store prior to going in order to ensure that they had the roast which the employee on the phone assured me that they did. But when I arrived, I was told by two employees that they didn’t know what a vegan roast was. I looked in the far left top most part of the freezer section and found a few varieties after which I informed the employees as to the location of the roasts.
I knew that I wanted to make cranberry sauce (which didn’t seem particularly difficult), a pumpkin pie, and roasted vegetables (which were given to me by a cousin from the first surprise). I also decided to add sweet potatoes, hummus, and a recipe from the New York Times: Butter Swim Biscuits. With everything that I cook, even if it’s from a recipe, I add my own touch, and this Thanksgiving meal saw me doing the same.
On the Tuesday night before Thanksgiving, I made the pumpkin pie and the cranberry sauce. I had made a pumpkin pie the week before—it being part of the first surprise—just to see if I could do it. It wasn’t very difficult given that I bought the crust from a store, but I didn’t have all of the ingredients such as pumpkin spice, and I added less sugar than the recipe called for since I try to avoid too much of it and it turned out all right. (As you can see from the photo on the right, we had seven different types of ice cream in the house and I served them with the pie. My friend Alex tried all of them.) For the cranberry sauce I added in some other fruit which had a nice effect. On Thursday morning I made the hummus adding in a tomato, and also the biscuits, along with roasting the vegetables. The roast was put in the oven in the afternoon.
Preparing the meal was not that difficult although I assume that it can be depending on what goes into it and how many people attend. But Thanksgiving became something much larger to me as I thought about the food and the people who were at the table with my father and me.
My perspective is that Thanksgiving Day, at least on the outside, seems to mean a glutinous meal, usually turkey, with lots of side dishes. It has also become a time for watching football, feeding those that are hungry with turkey and other food, parades, generally kindness towards others, and the start of the “holiday” season. For me the true meaning lies in getting together with friends and family to share in the bounty that comes from living in a wealthy country, i.e. giving thanks for having so much. Having never known poverty I’m not sure what this day actually means to somebody who may not have food or a place to live on a regular basis. What meaning did Thanksgiving have for the guy who was waving a cup at cars on the La Paz offramp two days after the holiday?
Thanksgiving 2025 was even more though than just being thankful for all I have and preparing a nice meal. It turned out to be a time of reflection about the past year and what truly is important to me.
One year ago, I was receiving chemotherapy for non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Experiencing an uncommon level of fatigue starting in July 2024 the next several months had been a whirlwind of tests and doctor’s visits until the eventual diagnosis in October. I lost my hair and wondered if I would recover. Food and visiting with friends were not at the top of my list. All I wanted to do was rest and recover from the beating that my body was taking.
Today I seem to have beaten cancer and am back to coaching adapted sports and feeling pretty strong.
So, this Thanksgiving being about friends made sense. I invited Raj and Alex, and Alex’s daughter Yanna and Yanna’s friend Michael. The people gathered around the table ranged in age from 8 to 96, and were from India, Belarus, and the Bronx, New York (my dad).
Both Raj and Alex are athletes. I’ve seen how they have blossomed both on and off the court, living their lives as we all do, through the challenges and joys, pushing their boundaries because of opportunities to play. I met both Raj and Alex at a wheelchair softball activity in Anaheim a few years ago. They both play wheelchair tennis, with Raj participating in and winning many tournaments. He also plays wheelchair football and participates in numerous other sports, wanting to try everything, even while working full-time. Raj also writes numerous songs in Hindi, using AI to bring his music and lyrics to life through video. Raj has two sons, one of whom is engaged and one who just got his learner’s permit. Alex is a business owner—Overcoming Change—where she promotes organizations that offer products and services for people with disabilities, creating a bridge between companies that care and the people who need support the most. A former model, she has literally pushed through life to live fully while raising two daughters. She wants to become an elite athlete in at least one sport.
That Alex and Raj were born in other countries ties into one of my reasons for originally living in both India and Nepal for seven years, i.e. wanting to experience living amidst people of different cultures. That they are both athletes, ties into my coaching adapted sports which I first began doing while living in India in 2011. The fact that my friends are from other countries is important to me as I want to live in a multicultural society which in my opinion is what the US stands for and also makes life much more interesting.
The First Surprise—A visit from my cousin and good friend Mark; Connections with my cousins Phyllis and Rick-November 20-23
As you might be able to tell, I’ve enjoyed surprising dad, although he thinks that I am playing games because I don’t tell him what is going on when he asks me direct questions like: “Did you invite anybody for Thanksgiving?” and I answer “No”. “Where are we going today?” “Just out for a ride.”
I didn’t tell my father that on Thursday, November 20, Mark was coming to visit from Seattle. After picking Mark up from the airport I asked him to wait while I told my father that there was a visitor at the front door. When my dad saw Mark, he was truly surprised! We ended up having a very joyful weekend with Mark and my cousins Phyllis and Rick who live close by. The talk and food were wonderful as we ate one meal at Phyllis and Rick’s lovely home and ordered in Chinese food at dads from what had been mom and dad’s favorite restaurant: Shanghai Palace off Jeronimo in Mission Viejo. These types of opportunities seem to provide my father with more reasons to live, especially when family is involved. My dad consistently tells me that he is ready to leave the earth but he also seemingly continues to have a good time.
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Throughout all of the surprises I knew that my dad was having a good time. The giveaway was his singing, something he does when he is happy. This is also something that his father Louie used to do. On the Friday after Thanksgiving, I took my dad for a ride and he asked me to play Frank Sinatra on my phone. As he started to croon along, I smiled and thought back to something my dad used to say about my mom: she’s a “real trooper.” I could also say the same about him: even while dealing with the challenges of living into your late 90s, he continues to live, he continues to sing.
