 nce upon a time not so long ago in a place not so far away, a child was born. Many saw this child as special and some called him PJ, others by his given name, Patrick and to a few he was Magoo. He was a fine looking child always robust and always smiling and what was more important always making others smile. If this were a real fairytale I could go on and at the completion state and all lived happily ever after. This is not a fairytale it is the story of a courageous young man who at 18 months of age was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis. When he reached his second birthday some of the robustness was fading but never the smile. PJ was attended to by some of the finest physicians in this world at Children’s Hospital in Boston and a course of treatments began which all hoped would allow PJ to become strong enough to undergo a double lung transplant someday.
PJ viewed his illness as a mere inconvenience, he loved life and if he had to endure the medications, treatments, feeding tubes and numerous hospitalizations he saw this as just the price he must pay to feel well enough to live the life he loved so much.
PJ began drawing at about 4 years of age and never stopped. He did however find new interests soon after, the building of Lego models, and video games, anything to do with trains and anything Disney. The video game interest came at the same time as the birth of his brother, Aedan. This was heaven for PJ a new victim to be beaten. Aedan would be the perfect foil for PJ’s Mario prowess. That is until PJ’s Da brought him to visit his Mom and new brother soon after the birth in the hospital. He wrinkled his nose and declared that Aedan needed to be put back because he was not ready yet.
A close relationship developed between PJ and Aedan they were not just brothers but best friends. The competitiveness was always there but also each missing the other, asking about the well being of the other sharing hugs and nicknames, to Aedan PJ was Dayday, and to PJ Aedan was Pork.
PJ entered the Franco American School to begin his formal education. F.A.S. is a small private local school that did more than anyone could expect to see that PJ was safe, happy and included. The administration, teachers and children made PJ feel both welcomed and loved. PJ excelled in school work in spite of his many long absences because of hospitalizations and treatments. His classmates always inquired into his well being and sent him get well gifts during each hospital stay.
Cystic Fibrosis is not just a disease of the lungs, in many the entire body is affected and at age 7 a feeding tube was needed to attempt to augment regular food that was not being absorbed properly. You could see the fear in his eyes when he learned it was necessary but he never stopped smiling. If you asked PJ how he was he always replied with that smile that he was “fine” and on the worst of days he would say “oh I am fine just a little yucky”.
PJ fought everyday with this terrible disease for nine years. It robbed him of his breathe, nutrition and left him with no stamina, things that most of us take for granted. In spite all this, none of us can remember him complaining, or asking “why” it had to be him.
The miracle of PJ is that he endured it all, he never quit, and he still managed to amaze everyone with his spirit and his love for people and life. If anyone had the right to be angry at life, it was him, but that was not PJ, life was too special to him to waste on anger.
He taught us that no matter what, YOU keep on fighting, laughing and enjoying life to its fullest. This may be PJ’s greatest legacy. No matter how uncomfortable, no matter how much pain he was in, no matter how scared he may have been, he always smiled, he always laughed, and most certainly lived his life to its fullest.
On February 2, 2007, 9 years and 93 days from his day of birth Patrick John Moriarty Jr. (PJ), cradled in the arms of his Mommy and Da, fought for and took his last breath.
Gandhi said : “Where there is love there is life” then PJ will live with us forever.
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