Brian Thomas Connolly died unexpectedly on December 9, 2020, and was certainly embraced by his loving dad and brother as he entered heaven. The great sorrow we feel at Brian’s passing is tempered by our faith that he is finally at peace and free of all earthly limitations.
Brian was the cherished son of Kathryn and the late Robert B. Connolly. Born on January 29, 1959, Brian’s parents quickly realized that he faced significant health challenges. They loved him dearly and fought tirelessly to get a correct diagnosis and treatment. After many months, it was determined that Brian had craniosynostosis, a condition where the soft spot closed prematurely and damaged the brain. Brian was one of the first infants in the country to undergo a surgical procedure to alleviate the pressure. The operation saved his life, but it could not reverse the damage already done.
Brian’s parents traveled across the country and left no stone unturned to explore new therapies designed to help children with developmental disabilities reach their full potential. His dad built special equipment to help his development. His mom and a host of family and friends came to the house four times a day to help with Brian’s patterning exercises. They celebrated every milestone that Brian reached, and his successes, both large and small, encouraged them to work even harder to support his progress. His sibling once told him he was a pioneer, but Brian didn’t want to be a pioneer. He just wanted to be a regular kid, and within the Connolly family, he was treated that way.
Born the fourth of seven children, Brian was the adored brother of the late John (Lindsey) Connolly, Linda (Gregory) Fahrenbach, Robert G. (Andrea) Connolly, Hugh (Carrie) Connolly, Maura (Thomas) Ryan, and Paula (Tom) McDonnell. He was a beloved uncle to many nieces and nephews, including his namesake Brian (Katie), Eric (Sarah) and John Fahrenbach; John and Greg Connolly; Lauren (Luke) Sloma; Kara and Kyle Connolly; his goddaughter Kate, Aileen, Maeve, Sean and Eamon Ryan; and Thomas McDonnell. He was a cherished great-uncle to Jack, Claire and Eleanor.
From the beginning of his life, Brian was right in the middle of all the Connolly family’s activities and antics. They spent many happy days together swimming in the backyard pool, doing chores, riding bikes, ice skating, celebrating holidays with their many cousins, and traveling with family on vacations near and far. Brian was fiercely protected by his loyal siblings. For the Connolly children, a person’s character was quickly revealed by how they acted towards Brian. If you failed to treat Brian with care and respect, you were quickly dismissed.
Brian loved listening to all types of music for hours and probably went through 100 radios in his lifetime. He was particularly fond of John Denver, and we later discovered that he even liked disco. In his younger days, Brian could out dance everyone and he frequently did at family weddings and parties. Brian had a signature stomp that many tried to copy but few could duplicate. When he became largely confined to a wheelchair, his sisters would spin him around while playing “Disco Inferno.” Brian enjoyed going to the Chicago Auto Show each year to collect literature on cars. Win or lose, he loved all Chicago sports teams. He looked forward to his annual Wisconsin trip to “Camp Hughie,” where he built campfires, played basketball and enjoyed boat rides with his devoted brother Hugh. Brian spent hours diligently practicing his spelling words and working on his “architecture” projects to share with his dad the builder. When he went to the hospital this week, he even brought along his briefcase packed with supplies to keep busy on his projects.
While everyone who knew Brian has a unique memory that captures his real zest for life, all would agree that no one loved receiving presents more than Brian. Watching Brian open a pile of gifts on his birthday or Christmas was a sight to behold. It didn’t matter if he received a pack of magic markers and drawing paper or an autographed jersey from a player on one of his favorite teams, Brian’s response was always an enthusiastic, “Just what I always wanted!” or “I love it!” Brian’s delight was sincere and brightened everyone’s day.
In later years, one of Brian’s favorite activities was singing his heart out and shaking his maracas as a proud member of his beloved Heartzingers, a singing group at Misericordia Home, where he lived for 37 years. It was Bob and Kathryn’s struggle to find appropriate educational, housing and vocational opportunities for Brian, that encouraged his aunt, Sister Rosemary Connelly to expand Misericordia Home. As Executive Director of Misericordia, Sister Rosemary asked Brian’s dad to help her create and develop the Misericordia campus, which serves as one of the world’s premier facilities for people with developmental disabilities. Brian came to see Misericordia as his second home and took great pride in being a “working man” and helping others within the community, whether assisting with recycling efforts or helping those in wheelchairs. As he aged, he enjoyed spending time pedaling around Misericordia’s campus on his adult three-wheel bicycle. The commitment, care and love shown to Brian by so many Misericordia staff members throughout the years has left his family both humbled and awed. No words can adequately express our gratitude for all that our Aunt Rosemary and the Misericordia staff have done to provide Brian with a wonderful life filled with dignity and respect.
Strangers who saw Brian may have only perceived his profound disabilities, but for those of us who knew and loved him, Brian’s life was a precious gift from God to the world. Brian wanted to be just a regular person, but in many ways, he was truly exceptional. Besides inspiring his aunt and parents to expand and create a model residential facility for over 600 people with disabilities, Brian moved a legion of family and friends to dedicate themselves to Misericordia’s mission, and prompted each of us to become a better, more generous person. He always asked “Are Mommy and Daddy proud of me?” and the unequivocal answer is “Yes!” Brian, you made all of us proud of you. You faced many challenges with incredible faith, grace, and love. You left an incredible mark on the world and our lives, and for that we are extremely grateful.
Due to COVID-19 pandemic restrictions, funeral services are private.
In lieu of flowers, please consider making a donation in Brian’s memory to Misericordia Heart of Mercy, 6300 N. Ridge Ave., Chicago, IL, 60660.
Funeral info: 847.673.6111.