Gone Too Soon

It's been a rough few days.  Sunday morning, my dad called us at 8:30 a.m. with news I am still having trouble believing: my cousin P.J. had drowned.  He, his brother and a friend had taken a boat out on the Merrimack River in Massachusetts on Saturday.  It was hot out, and P.J. decided to take a swim.  He jumped from the boat into the river.  And that was it.  Something terrible happened in that jump, and P.J. didn't come back up.  His body was found hours later.  He was just 30 years old.

Our family is in shock.  Nothing in life prepares you for this.  I have lost many relatives, but most have lived long, full lives.  P.J.'s life was fuller than most people's - his mom Sandy has said he did more in 30 years than most people can do in 90 - but it ended way too soon.  30 years old.  Life is too fragile sometimes.


(Above: P.J. with his dad at my parents' Labor Day
cookout, 2009)

P.J. himself was not fragile at all.  He had guts, and a fierce determination.  Above all else, he was a hero.  He helped protect our country in the Marines.  He served in Iraq.  He was a member of the National Guard and was planning to return to war, this time in Afghanistan.  He was also a hero at home, as a police officer.  Just two years after joining the Lowell Police Force, he earned the department's second-highest honor, the Medal of Valor.  He had brought down an armed man without firing a weapon.  The Lowell Sun's police blog has a great post about P.J.'s bravery on the force.  Click here to read it.

P.J. and I were very different people.  From the time he was a little kid, he seemed certain that he was going to serve our country in the armed forces.  He was into military TV shows and toys, while I tended to like silly things.  But when you're a kid, toys are toys and video games are video games, no matter the subject.  So we got along well, and had fun whenever our families met up.  And we laughed a lot... I think my brother and I saw "Pee Wee's Big Adventure" for the first time at his house.  Good times.  As we grew older, we saw each other less frequently.  It happens.  I was busy studying journalism, while P.J. was training to become a Marine.  But it was nice to see him here and there, and we'd catch up at family get-togethers.  We were Facebook "friends," so occasionally we'd communicate through that.  I'd also get updates through his mother and father, who have long been very proud of their son.  Nobody bragged, though, so I didn't really know the extent of P.J.'s heroics until now.  Today I wish that I had talked more with P.J., but that's often the case with family: it's too easy to assume you'll see a particular relative at the next cookout.  Especially a cousin who's three years younger than you are.

P.J. was a great guy.  He's exactly the type of person you want defending your country and patrolling your streets.  Most of all, he's the type of person you want in your family.  In 30 short years, P.J. made a big difference in the world, and he left us too soon.  Rest in peace, cousin.  We're going to miss you.