Well, if you’ve read the news on my page you’ve already heard about the sudden passing of my wife Sandy at the end of June. I’ll say again what I’ve said about a million times in the last few weeks – it’s a surreal experience, and it’s hard to describe the assortment of emotions you go through in a situation like this.
I’m lucky in that I have some great, amazing friends who have helped me so much through this episode, which I realize sounds like a bit of a cliché, but I don’t have the energy to be cynical about that – I’m not kidding.
There’s the close core of friends who were with me in Sandy’s hospital room from the day she went in until the day she died, two weeks later, and they still check in with me every day. They’re like family.
And then there's another group of friends who have used their unique talents to help me take care of simple but important tasks that I would probably neglect if not for them: My gifted horticulturist friend who whipped Sandy’s beautiful garden into shape for me one afternoon and scolded me for not watering once in awhile. My friend the personal chef who normally delivers gourmet vegetarian weekday dinners to busy working couples, and has included me among her clients for a few weeks, because, “hey John, you gotta eat!”. My friend who used to work with Sandy in the promotion department at The Mountain, who knows all about putting on events, who’s doing the planning for Sandy’s memorial service – a job I could never do myself. Plus many more people who aren’t kidding when they say, “if there’s anything I can do . . . . “
But I also wanted to take a minute to acknowledge something very powerful that I didn’t expect, and that’s the overwhelming number of emails from friends I don’t even know – people who listen to The Mountain, have heard me talking about “Mrs. Fisher” over the years, and just want to offer some positive thoughts. I’ve heard from a lot of listeners who’ve been through some kind of loss themselves, who can speak from experience when they assure me that things do get better. That’s probably the most moving kind of message I could get, and the most generous for someone to write.
I’ve known from my first day here at The Mountain over 15 years ago that there’s a special bond between this station and its listeners, and I’ve never felt that more than during this bizarre, scary, unreal turn of events in my life. So, thanks.
Some people ask me how I could possibly go back to work in light of what I’ve been through. But I like it here. I feel like I’m with family here. How could I not come back?
Well, if you’ve read the news on my page you’ve already heard about the sudden passing of my wife Sandy at the end of June. I’ll say again what I’ve said about a million times in the last few weeks – it’s a surreal experience, and it’s hard to describe the assortment of emotions you go through in a situation like this.
