Nisha Parikh

Selfishly, I never wanted this day to come. But deep down inside I knew it was going to come a lot sooner than I expected. My dad had given me many hints over the last 6 months... All that I ignored out of hope. Hope for him. Hope for me. Hope for a difference. Hope for a 5th chance of making it through another hurdle. Hope for our family.

But my dad was tired. And he was suffering. And it was his time to go on his terms. And even though he lived a short life - he lived a FULL life.

As each of you know, my Dad was my entire world and I was his. There was no doubt about that. We leaned on each other in our most needed times. We moved mountains and parted water for each other. There was no distance and no amount of sleep that we would not risk for each other. It was a relationship many people over the years would come to us and say - I don’t have that - how did you do it?

There would be times in the last 5 years I would want to miss a family function or party and he would tell my mom that he didn’t want to go or he’ll go for an hour and come back. He would say - if my daughter is staying home, then I want to stay home. And on those nights we would order take out or eat the food my mom made and watch a movie or a favorite show and happily enjoy each other’s company - most of the time in silence.

Now... don’t get me wrong, my dad LOVED my brother and my mother too and traveled to the moon for them, always. And when he couldn’t he made sure I or someone else did. But my bond with my dad was different. It was unique. A father-daughter bond is typically unique, but this... this was rare. It was like we were cut from the same cloth in every which way possible. We read each others minds. We knew each others feelings without having to say anything. And we respected each other’s boundaries while supporting each other through every peak and every valley. We knew whether something was wrong the minute we saw each other or from the tone of our voices. Whenever we were far from each other there was at least an “I miss you”, “I love you”, or “are you okay” text or call once a day. He was always the first person I told all my successes and all my problems to.

No matter what - my dad was my first phone call or first hello or last goodnight each and every single day. Even when I would travel abroad with my friends - I needed to hear my dads voice at minimum three times a day or more. I know, crazy right? I would at times secretly sneak away just to call him and at times he would snap back and say - “what could possibly change in an hour” or “shouldn’t you enjoy where you are”.

Well - a lot could possibly change in an hour. On July 9, the most amazing man in the world left this earth. Pradeep Suman Parikh. I was the last person in our family to speak to him... my dad... at 7:15pm. I went through my usual nag with him... how are you feeling, what did you eat, do you need anything, what did you do today and more... And as usual - he went through his answers. He seemed a little off and he reassured me he was fine. I told him I was worried and told him I was going to call his doctors and he responded back and said I’ve never stopped you from doing that so go ahead and that he was just tired and he wanted to finish eating and go to sleep since he had just gotten back from dialysis. I told him I loved him and that I’ll see him tomorrow like always. Right after I got off the phone with him, I told my Uncle that something wasn’t right and that I was going to call his doctors after hanging up which I promptly did at 7:20. And just an hour later - around 8pm he passed away - peacefully in his sleep as I’ve prayed about a lot in the last year - asking God, if it’s ever my dads time to go, please take him quickly, peacefully, and painlessly. Which he did.

For the past 34 years my dad and I built an unbreakable bond. I told him EVERYTHING. Nothing anyone said to either of us about each other would change a thing and we would be the first people to come to each other’s defense.

He was a girldad in every respect. He would tell everyone - Nisha is my daughter and second son all in one. Growing up, he didn’t let society or old Indian traditions shape me. Instead year over year, he gave me a few feathers to build my wings and let me fly - he never clipped them knowing that I can soar as high as I wanted. He let me build. He let me run. He always coached me to believe and value myself. He told me my end goal shouldn’t be marriage or kids - that’s apart of my life, but it isn’t my life. He said he wanted me to build a foundation for myself first and foremost. Stabilize yourself he said. Follow your passions and find your purpose is what he would say. Travel as much as you can - get to know yourself and who you are. Then and only then will you find your soulmate that will give you companionship that will last lifetimes. Never settle when it comes to love - you have to spend the rest of your life with this person.

It’s been six days since I haven’t seen or talked to my dad. The withdrawals of not seeing or hearing his voice has been debilitating. As each day passes the wound in my heart gets bigger with no end in sight. His passing has left a hole deeper than any ocean that most likely will never be repaired.

My dad was a worldly man. A man that’s traveled far - having lived in 4 different continents and traveled far and wide to ensure his family was taken care of, just like his father. You could spend hours with him listening to his stories of Europe, Asia, the US, and Africa. He was a history book in human form knowing facts about culture, people, and food that at times you wouldn’t believe. There definitely would be times I would say no way and he would say “go ahead and google it - prove me wrong” and of course, I never could.

He was a resourceful man. He knew many people, many trades, and a lot about everything. About 7 months ago - he had another health scare and I begged him crying to hold on even longer and fight it through like always. And he looked at me, took my hand, and said I will don’t you worry. And then he followed with... “you want to know why? ... have you seen the way you drive?! No one out there is going to trust you on the road with the speed you go at - I’m going to have to be here to ensure you keep others safe” and cracked a smile. Even in the worst situations he found humor and positivity.

When I was younger, just starting out in my career and would face difficult situations he would tell me... head down - keep working. Proof is in the pudding. Don’t mind others - mind your work. It is what will bring you success. And he was right. Through his guidance I have succeeded in life. He told me to build my own empire - and I owe my empire to him... and my mom of course. But he... he coached me how to do it - he never did it for me. My dad taught me about banking and how to manage my finances, he taught me how to drive, how to use handyman tools, taught me about cars, and taught me how to advocate for myself in all situations. And if I failed - he never got mad. He was always behind me in every sense, helped me get back up and start over again. Perseverance he always told me. I’m always going to face difficult situations he said - you can’t run away from life he said. Lemonade out of lemons. Keep going. One day at a time.

My dad didn’t have a lot but he had enough. His doctor called me this past weekend and reminded me of that. I had emailed him breaking the news and he immediately called me within an hour in complete shock. He said he remembered the exact date he met my dad, February 2019 post quadruple bypass and open heart valve replacement. Dr. Arabo said the minute he met him - he knew he was a special man and reminded him a lot of his own dad and from that day forward he never called him by his name, he called him Uncle checking in on him almost weekly. My dad left a lasting impression on pretty much everyone he met. He was kind, loving, and compassionate. He gave to others when he didn’t  have enough for himself.

My dad has showed and taught me a lot. Even to this day - thinking how did my dad survive the passing of his father, his sister, and countless other friends and family members at a young age.

And as I sit here and think that the time that he gave me wasn’t enough and I wish I had more - I remind myself that even though we both knew it wasn’t enough - he did everything to make sure that I would be - especially in the last couple months.

I slowly came to learn, that my dad knew he wasn’t going to make it much longer and in the time he realized that - he met with his friends and family members ensuring that if he was not here one day - that it was there responsibility to be there for me and my mom in every which way possible.

Not only did he leave me with his strength, wisdom, love and so much more... but he also left me a line full of aunts and uncles that have vowed to stand by me and my mom through the good, the bad, and the ugly. Most of you whom are here with us today. And as we sit here together with him and we reminisce on the life he had with us I hope we all remember a few important lessons he left us with.

1.       Life is short. So short.

2.       Honey over vinegar. Always.

3.       The power of positivity.

4.       Perseverance and tenacity.

5.       Selflessness.

Dad, I love you. You did amazing. Three weeks ago I looked at you and said - like I say almost weekly - you are the best dad in the whole wide universe. And you looked back and said - and you, you are the best daughter in the whole wide universe.

You did good with me dad. Just like dada left this world ensuring his family was okay - you did the same. You did an amazing job raising me ensuring I had all the tools I needed to be successful in life with or without you here physically. You left no stone unturned for me.

You are my person and always will be. Whether that’s here with my physically or in the spiritual sense. I pray you will always be walking with me in the next chapters of my life - which I so badly do not want to start without you, but must because that is what you would have wanted me to do.

I pray when it’s my time to leave this earth - you come to me with open arms and bring me into the new life you have built as you did this one.

Dad, I chose you in this lifetime. I will choose you in the next lifetime and every lifetime thereafter. Please make sure to be with me every minute of every day - watch over all of us here. Keep us protected and safe. And don’t forget to stop by every so often and show us your love and remind us of you.

No man will ever be able to fill your shoes and let’s be honest - I would never let them either.

As we send my dad off to his next life, I ask that we keep his legacy alive by living life to the fullest, loving one another without judgement or resentment, and creating memories that will last a lifetime... just like he did.

Gaurav Parikh

Dad was full of life and a force of nature. There was never a moment that he was not at full throttle. His zest for life was palpable in everything he did and to everyone he interacted with.

His life was a rollercoaster of ups and downs. The highs were incredible and the lows were earth shattering. Born in Africa, boarding schooled in India, immigrated to New Jersey, then moved to Eagle Rock a couple years later, and finally settling in and around Brea, CA. No matter the moves, the houses, the business, the jobs, the side hustles, or anything else; there were always three constants for Pradeep Kumar—his family, his community and the true belief that no matter the problem, when he woke up, he knew today would be better than yesterday, and tomorrow will be better than today.

From the time we were little, our Father reinforced the importance of family and community. Dad made sure we were always surrounded by friends that were family and family that were friends. I remember trying to explain to kids at school why I had so many uncles, aunts, and cousins – everyone was always an uncle or aunthie. This idea of a community that was by your side, no matter what, shaped the way I lived my life.

He went out of his way for everyone all of the time. If my friend’s parents couldn’t drop them off at our house, he would go pick them up and bring them over. Our house was always open, he loved to cook for all of our friends and entertain us with silly jokes and stories. If any of his friends or family ever needed help with anything he would jump in his car and rush over immediately, he never hesitated, his first words were always “what can I do, how can I help?”

At every phase of my life I have been blessed to have family like my Father had and his family can be felt here today. Sometimes that family had been far in distance or they had been apart for a long time, but no matter the amount time or distance between them, they always picked up right where we left off. Because of his teachings I have developed my own peanut gallery of a family, who would do anything to be here right now if they could. He was so happy that he got to meet many of them from all over the country at my wedding and he was so happy to see the fruits of the life I was building.

One of my fondest memories of Dad is staying up late at Raju uncle’s house, after Dad and Raju uncle made us an awesome dinner of tandoori chicken and all the sides, we would stay up way to late learning all the rules and tricks of playing craps, blackjack, or thiin pathi. My Fathers ability to do complex math on the fly in his head was always astounding to me and drove me to try to be like him and developed my passion for mathematics.

He supported and encouraged Nisha and I with every activity, hobby, passion, and crazy thing we wanted to do. Although, like he said, it had to be in the “BUD-JET”. Even when work didn’t always allow him to make every baseball game, tennis match, debate tournament, or academic decathlon – but no matter how tired he was, he would always listen to me go on and on about it after he came home. You could see and sense his love in his constantly present smile and never-ending stream of Dad jokes.

He would do anything for his family, he spent weeks and months away for work. He went to San Francisco, Romania, Houston, Portland, Seattle and wherever his companies asked him to go. He never asked us to move with him no matter how long the assignment. He never wanted to up-root his family from the community they had built. This ability to endure, persevere, and find the good in every situation carried him through his entire life. He survived his stroke, the passing of his sister to cancer, and one illness or tragedy after the other with a smile on his face.

4 weeks ago I came to visit Dad and spend some time with him, I knew then that I may not have much time left with him. One of my brothers sent me a text with advice I took fully to heart. He said, don’t hold anything back, say everything you have to say and leave nothing unsaid. I spent the maximum time that the hospital would allow me to stay with him everyday. Some days we didn’t talk about much, other days he was too tired or hurting to talk. On the day before I left we had a long conversation. We talked about his worries about his families future. We talked about his hopes for me and my family. We talked about his happy memories and we talked about his fears and regrets. Even though his heart was heavy and filled with sadness, he never lost hope or faith, even in the end he knew everything would be okay. He passed peacefully and, on his terms—he spoke with all his loved ones before having his absolute favorite, a chile reno, for dinner and then falling asleep.

He leaves many people to carry on his memory, but I know that if he was here today, he would say there is absolutely no reason to cry and he would want all of them to be at peace.

To his friends he would say this is no time to mourn. He would want you to have a party and celebrate his life with the full flavor and zest that he lived it with. He would demand that tonight everyone eats well, drinks plenty of Johnny Walker and Chivas, and plays thiin pathi until well past everyone’s bedtime. He would want you to carry his fire through your life and continue to embody his memory in the community you built together.

He was so happy that I found his daughter-in-law. He knew things we not always easy with our family and our culture but loved your fighting spirit and willingness to try. He was proud of us and the life we’ve built and regrets that he wasn’t healthy enough to spend more time with us. He wishes he could have seen our house with actual furniture in it. He relied on you to keep me on the straight and narrow and he rests easy knowing that you keep me in line.

He was heartbroken at the thought of not being there for the birth of his granddaughter. He wanted you to know that he never got to visit Sydney Australia but that he always wanted to go there. He was very sorry he couldn’t stick around to meet you, but bhagwan said he had suffered enough and it was his time for his next life. He knows you will carry on the best of the Parikh line and will make him proud.

To his brother, he is grateful for the years of support and unconditional love. He wants you to know that it is okay to feel relieved in having one less burden and to be happy for him that he is no longer in pain.

To his mother, he would want you to know that it must be absolutely unimaginable, the pain of burying not one but two of your children. He would want you to know that his legacy will live on in his children and in the arrival of your first granddaughter. You raised a son you can be proud of and nothing can extinguish his light.

To his wife, he wants you to know that everything will be okay. He hopes that in his aftermath you can find peace and happiness and heal. He wants you to know that you’ve raised two amazing and wonderful children who will always take care of you the way they did him. He hopes you travel and go see the world, that you do everything you couldn’t do the last 10 years.

And finally, to his daughter: his love for you knew no bounds, he was more worried about you than anyone else. He didn’t want his passing to slow you down or stop you from living your life. He regretted being a burden to you for so long and never wanted you to sacrifice your life for his. He has so many hopes for you. He wants you to follow your path and continue to grow your carrier. He wants to see you follow Dipti Foi’s footsteps and finish what she could not; climb that corporate ladder all the way to the top. He wants you to find happiness in every aspect of your life and to know that he has made every arrangement to ensure that you and mom are taken care of. You were his driving force and the light of his life. You are his legacy and his life will live on through you.

I’ve learned so much from you Dad. I have learned to see every challenge as an opportunity, to push myself to succeed, to provide for my family, to be a rock in stormy seas, to not be afraid to show emotion, to constantly grow and learn and overcome. You showed me that with perseverance and hard work anything is possible. You showed us all that even at almost 65 years old you could still sweet talk every nurse at every hospital in to getting whatever you wanted. You kept us constantly laughing and you were taken from this world too soon. We love you so much and we will never forget you.