Joe

When I chose this week's topic, "If you could rid the world of something, what would it be?” I wasn't intending to write what this post is going to be about. However, as today drew near I realized what I wanted to write about.

I have three distinct memories of Joe Wishnoff.

The first memory comes from the first time I met him at a dinner held by the ex's company. We were at the downtown Dave and Busters. If the ex hadn't told me about Joe's condition beforehand, there is no way I would have known about it. You couldn't tell by looking at him. On the surface he was a young, outgoing, fun-loving guy. However, on the inside he was a late-twenty something fighting *Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis (IPF). As I sat and talked to Joe, all I could think was how positive and full of life he appeared to be. Honestly, there would be many times throughout the few years I knew him that I would forget about his condition and have to be reminded.

The second memory I have of Joe took place at my home. Well, sorta of at my home . . . see, one night I came downstairs in "home appropriate" attire, not realizing the ex was video chatting with a friend - the friend being Joe. Needless to say unbeknown to me (until after the fact) Joe saw me in my "home appropriate" attire. Let's just say I was not happy that I wasn't forewarned and I was also embarrassed to some extent. However, as time went on we'd all laugh about the incident.

The last memory was in 2007, on my birthday. We had bumped into each other on our way to the same place. Besides being one of the few times I saw him wearing his oxygen tank and walking slowly as he made his way to the elevator, it was the first time that I could honestly say I saw Joe express any sign of weakness, or sadness, about his situation. It wasn't something that would be obvious to anyone around us. The only reason I knew was from a simple comment he made to me as we traveled to our destination.

This would be the last time I saw Joe.

I wasn't super close to Joe, but when I heard of his passing my heart sank into my stomach. I can't express the sadness I felt. That was July 14, 2008. To be honest it was a difficult day for me to begin with for personal reasons I won't get into, however when I got a call about it just added to the sadness I was already feeling that day.

Over the past three years I've thought about Joe periodically. Sometimes at the most random times. When these moments arise, I remember his passion for life even in the hardest times. I remember how he grabbed life by the horns despite the obstacles it presented him. I remember his ambition, even when the odds were stacked against him.

Amongst the many things I learned from Joe I learned to be thankful for every day I have and to make the most of life. I also learned that feeling sorry for yourself doesn't take you far. Additionally, Joe was an example, and inspiration, to me of how one should live their life. That even when it may seem like the universe is against you, that doesn't mean you give up. I also learned from him that though you may have had to suffer it doesn't mean others have too. He was a voice for others with IPF with the hope to make the world a better place for others.

If I had to rid my world of anything it would be the tendency I have to not remember the lessons I learned from Joe's presence in my life. Lessons that surely could get me through the harder days life may throw at me. Thankfully, tomorrow is always another chance to get it right.

Hopefully as time goes on, and life throws me more curve balls, I will remember to think of Joe and handle them with more grace and humility than I have during other moments in my life.

Now that I have told you what I would rid my world of, please take a moment to see what my fellow bloggers have to say:


• Mom of Many (Susanna)

• Momarock (Sara)

• Merryland Girl (Melissa)

Until later . . .

*IPF is a rare lung disease that causes lung tissue to prematurely scar and age, making it extremely difficult to breathe