Capitola homeowner and Greek Bay Area Legend, Sam Anagnostou — or as I knew him, Uncle Sammy, my uncle who felt more like a father and best friend, the one who taught me to surf — a true ray of sunshine.
He loved the ocean. He believed in the healing power of the waves and the warmth of the sand beneath your feet. And his theory of seagulls + eagles will live on eternally- reach out and I will gladly share it with you. As it is a reminder that we are all connected even if we are different.
If you ever met him, you’d remember his kindness, the jokes that made your cheeks hurt, and the way he made you feel seen, even if you were a stranger. His heart was always on his sleeve, and a bandana was around his hair to keep it smooth.
Sam was more than a beloved surfer and adventurer. He was a real estate powerhouse, a dedicated father, a loyal friend, and a beacon of light anywhere he’d go. He made life feel like a celebration.
But behind that bright smile, and what looked like a dream life to those looking in, Sam battled deeply with his mental health the past few years.
On April 12, 2025, Sam lost that battle.
His passing leaves a massive void — in our family, in our community, and in the lives of everyone lucky enough to know him. But more than anything, it left us with a clear and urgent message: Mental health matters. And it matters for everyone — mothers, fathers, children, neighbors, even the people who seem like they have it all together.
To honor his life and raise awareness, we will gather for a special Paddle Out in Sam’s memory in July 2025, at the Getty. Details will be shared soon — and everyone is welcome.
If you’re reading this and you’re struggling — or someone you love is — please hear me when I say: You are not alone.
Sam was the kind of person who would become friends with EVERYONE he came in contact with, offer a genuine compliment in line at the grocery store, or drop a funny joke that would make your whole day. He gave so much light to others — but in his hardest moments, he truly struggled. And that’s why it’s so important that we talk about this. That we check in. That we show up. For ourselves and each other.
As Jim Carrey once said:
“Depression is your body saying, I don’t want to be this character anymore. It’s too much for me. You should think of the word depressed as DEEP rest — your body needs deep rest from the character you’ve been trying to play.”
This May, while we celebrate mothers and spring blooms and sunshine-filled days, let’s also hold space for real conversations around emotional wellness. Let’s remind each other that it’s okay to not be okay — and it’s more than okay to ask for help.
Here are three simple things I practice daily to support my mental health — I hope they help someone out there, too:
Start with stillness. Whether it’s prayer, meditation, or simply sitting in gratitude — take a few minutes every morning to breathe, listen, and center yourself. Even noticing the waves, birds, or breeze can rewire your brain toward calm.
Let go and let God. We are souls in human bodies, carrying heavy loads. It’s easy to keep piling on more — responsibilities, expectations, pressure. But there’s deep strength in surrender. Go to the ocean, close your eyes, and ask for guidance. Listen to the whispers.
Lead with love. Depression often makes people feel like a burden. But love — for yourself, for others, for this wild and beautiful life — is one of the greatest tools for healing. Love more, judge less. Choose connection over isolation.
Lastly, build your village. Support systems save lives. Reach out. Check in. Find your people. Be someone’s person.
Mental health doesn’t fit neatly into a system. It’s layered, complex, and deeply human. But with awareness, compassion, and action, we can shift the stigma and create real change.
In the U.S., at least 1 in 5 adults experiences mental illness each year. And many more go undiagnosed or silently suffer. May is our reminder to do better — together.
Let’s talk about it. Let’s normalize it. Let’s care more.
And let’s never forget Uncle Sammy — his light, his laughter, and the legacy he left behind.