Sad Day

I just learned that John, my dog Kodiak's godfather, the one who helped babysit him when he was a puppy and I was living in a drug-infested neighborhood, died Wednesday sometime in the early morning hours. On Tuesday he and his wife Janice came to my house so I could type a letter for him (they don't have a typewriter or a computer). John looked fine, seemed like his normal self, and apparently had enough energy to do errands and then mow the lawn when he got home later that evening. He most likely died of a heart attack in his sleep; the coroner will do an autopsy sometime in the next week or so.

It's so surreal that a person can be talking with you, laughing with you and then be dead several hours later. To say I'm stunned is an understatement. I've known John and Janice for 15 years. Fifteen years. Janice has lived with John for 37 years. Thirty-seven years. What is she going to do now? And what about his dogs, Precious and D.J.? And what about his son who lives in the Czech Republic, where John (originally Jaroslav) was born and raised?

How do you go from thinking of people as a couple to thinking of just one? Just Janice. Alone in the house she shared with her husband for 25 years. I can't even imagine it. One good thing in her favor is that she has a strong relationship with her sisters and their families as well as her mother. And there are her friends like me. We'll all help her laugh again.

Rest in peace, John