Wednesday, July 24, 2013

With Thanks, from Team Finn

 
Over 15 years ago, I met an incredible man named Dan. I fell in love with him almost immediately. As if that wasn't enough of a package, he came with an adorable miniature version of himself, named Zach, and the two of them took over my heart. I didn't realize that my life had been missing anything up until that point, but the sense of absolute completeness that they brought me made it very clear that I had indeed had a void. The three of us were an instant family. Without question or hesitation. And as the years passed, we only grew closer and more connected. We started referring to ourselves as a team. Team Finn we would say. And like any good team, we all had our positions and we always had each other's backs. Always. Our little team/family was perfect. We loved and supported one another through everything, and like any good team, we started making plans for our future. One of those plans was to build a stage rally car. Dan would be the driver, Zach, the co-driver. And me, I was to be the team manager, part time crew chief, and head cheerleader.
As Zach grew older, started driving, and bought his first Subaru, this dream suddenly became more and more real. And in June of 2012, when he graduated from high school, it became even more real. He could go to college anywhere, so we could travel to races without risking his education.
 It all seemed so perfect.
Until August 3, 2012.
That evening, while driving with his friends to a car event, Zach was involved in an accident. His two friends walked away. Unfortunately, he did not. On August 4, 2012, he passed away from his injuries.
Team Finn was changed forever.
Dan & I had lost our son, and our way. Life no longer had any meaning. For months, we floated along, not caring about anything. Our passion for cars was still there, but after what happened, it was greatly diminished and we thought Team Finn's dreams were over for good.
But as he always was in life, Zachary was once again our inspiration.
We knew that even though we didn't care if we went on, that it would matter to our son. We channeled his positive attitude and zest for life and we struggled to find our way on this new path. We made friends with a local rally team, and volunteered with them at a stage rally event. We also entered local rally cross competitions and found some happiness once again behind the wheel. We started slowly building the car more and more for rally, and decided that Team Finn would carry on in Zach's memory. That even though I will be taking his place in the passenger seat, he will ALWAYS be our co-driver. He rides with us in spirit, and in our hearts.
When Zach was in high school, he designed a logo for our team. A family crest of sorts.
We now rock this logo on all of our vehicles, among other things. It is a symbol that represents not just our family, but a passion and love for life that was Zachary's legacy. Team Finn lives on in Dan and I every single day. The lessons our son taught, and continues to teach us, give us the strength and guidance we need to continue to pursue our dream.
Since Zach's passing, we have received support and love from many unexpected places, and one of those is the car community. From friends and loved ones, to strangers who never got the chance to meet our son, we have seen compassion and sympathy. Many people have asked us for Team Finn stickers since we started doing this, and we are beyond touched by the gesture. To see this logo on cars, helmets and more reminds us that Team Finn is still here and still going strong. It reaffirms that we made the right choice to continue on in our son's memory. But more than anything it makes us love and appreciate those of you supporting us in our dream, and cheering us on. We know Zach is smiling down on each and every one of you...


Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Ignorance.

With all the talk about the current trial results, (You know what I'm referring to, I don't need to name names.) I find myself saddened. 
I'm saddened that the word racism is being thrown around so carelessly. I for one, did not watch the trial. I tried a few times, but I just couldn't handle the media bias that went along with it. So I don't even begin to pretend I know all the facts involved. But what I do know is that the world is an ugly place sometimes. There are ignorant people out there, and they come in every shape, size and color. That is a fact. While we spend hours discussing race and hoodies, there are parents mourning the loss of their child. 
This isn't a black, white, brown, purple or green issue. This is an ignorance issue. No matter what color your skin, you should be saddened by this story. 
We live in a world where people are so quick to judge one another by what we wear, who we date, where we live, etc, that we forget that at the end of the day we are all human. We share this world. 
I would love to live in a world where people were judged solely by their actions and not by outward appearances, but I don't. I cannot control the attitudes and behaviors of others, but I can control my own. I choose to follow the Golden Rule. I will treat you with kindness and respect, so long as you do the same. Simple as that. And I try to surround myself with like minded people. I can't change the entire world, but I can change my own personal world. I can't make hatred and ignorance disappear, but I don't have to tolerate it in my life. We can choose to change ourselves, and teach our children to be better. We can let those around us know that we won't allow their negativity in our lives. And little by little, these actions might start to spread and impact those around us. That's how you change the world. You start with yourself. You can't change other people. But you can give them an example, and hope that by seeing what kindness and goodness can do, they too, will want to change. 
I've seen evil in this world, but I've also seen good. I've seen hatred, and I've seen love. Yes, there is ignorance out there, but there is also tolerance. Choose your battles and your words carefully, for there will always be war, but there can also be peace...




Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Let's Be Honest...

Today I want to talk about honesty. Do you consider yourself an honest person? Most of us would probably say yes. But are you, really? And I don't mean honest about whether or not your friend looks fat in the jeans, or if your mother-in-law's pie really WAS the best you've ever tasted. I'm talking about genuine honesty. With yourself and the way you live your life. 
There is an epidemic out there of people living false lives. We say one thing, but do another. I see this everyday, and I'm sure in some ways, I myself am guilty of it. Here are a few common examples:
*The "But I am a Christian" lie. This lie is a big one. It allows people to walk around with a self righteous attitude while doing nothing but sitting in judgement of others. You say "only God can judge" but you don't really mean it. You think that because you believe in him, and maybe go to church regularly, that this somehow gives you the freedom to point out the flaws in others, and put yourself on a pedestal. These same people will use the Bible and religious quotes to shame others, or to try and make excuses for bigotry. The Bible is filled with quotes, and depending on the interpretation, anything could be viewed as sinful. So how about from now on, if you want to hate someone for their beliefs, or judge someone based on their life choices, you do it honestly. Say you don't like it, because it makes you uncomfortable. Own your hatred and judgement, instead of trying to use God or religion as your scapegoat. 
*The "This is my life" lie. You know the ones. They make mistake after mistake in their lives, and refuse to acknowledge it. The excuses for bad decisions come in many forms, but never honesty. They are quick to point out what they view as "errors" in others, but are blind to the mess they've made of their own life. They think the world owes them a favor, and can't wait to blame someone else for the terrible choices they repeatedly make. They think nothing through and then expect others to clean up their messes when "their life" doesn't go the way they want it to. 
*The "I want a family" lie. This one is very common. Most people think that you have to follow some life timeline. Get married, have kids, buy a house, get a dog, etc, etc, etc. So they do it. But they only do it half ass. Or they do it without being honest about what the choices really entail. Having a family isn't just making babies with someone. It isn't playing house for one weekend a month. It is a full time, endless job. To say that you want a family, or that you want to be a parent is a HUGE decision. It may mean you sacrifice a career, or don't get the car you always wanted. It might mean changing jobs or shifts, so that you can go to kids games, or eat dinner together. There is nothing wrong with saying that a family doesn't fit into your life. That is an honest and real feeling. Or maybe you just aren't ready yet. That's ok. If more people were truly honest with themselves BEFORE they jumped into life changing decisions, the world would be a better place. 
*The "I can afford that" lie. Most of us live above our means. By a lot. Just look at the economy if you don't believe me. Credit cards, loans, etc are just ways to pay for things that we can't afford. Now maybe you can afford it later, but just needed the help up front. Ok fine. But that isn't the case for most people. Most people get credit cards to buy things they don't really need, and can't afford, but want anyway. And then they pay the minimum payment each month, and wonder why they can't seem to get out of debt. People buy houses and cars and only look at the monthly payment and think "I can afford that." but don't consider how they will pay for the inevitable costly repairs and extras that come along with those items. A house is great, until the roof leaks, the lawnmower breaks, the furnace stops working, etc. You still have to pay for the house, but now you have to pay to fix those things also. Was that worked into your budget plan when you bought it? And cars don't run for free. There's gas, insurance, tires, oil changes, maintenance and repairs and more. How many people add those costs in when they buy one? Not many. Budgeting and money management are things that should be taught in school, to everyone. Too many people spend without thinking, or only look at a bottom line, and not the big picture. 
*The "I'm busy" lie. I've talked about this before, and it is a very common problem. We are too quick to say "I'm too busy for that" when in reality we just aren't managing our time well. Or worse, we keep adding things to our to do list, that we don't REALLY need to do, while not making time for things we SHOULD be doing. Sit down and make a time budget for yourself. Put the hours from the time you wake up, til the time you go to sleep, and write down exactly what you do with them. I think you'd be surprised just how much "extra" you really have. No time to exercise? What about that 2 hour TV watching block? If we are genuinely honest with ourselves, we probably waste more time than we realize. Or if we planned things out a little better, could make more time. 
I could go on and on, but I think you get the idea. No matter how honest you think you are, chances are you could be even more honest, especially with yourself. There are very few of us who don't fall into AT LEAST one of these categories. And that doesn't make us bad people, it just means we have room for improvement. We are human after all. But in order to correct ourselves, we have to first BE HONEST...

Monday, July 1, 2013

The Wound That Doesn't Heal

It's been almost 11 months since we lost our son. Eleven months since our world changed forever. People often ask me if it's any "better" now. I hate that question. I never know how to answer it. Losing a child isn't an injury. It isn't an illness. It's.... well, it's in a category all its own. And it doesn't ever get better. It is a permanent wound that will never heal.
Each day as a grieving parent brings new tests and challenges to face. There is no preparing for them. They hit you like a punch to the gut, and you are forced to deal with them on the spot. Things that used to seem so innocuous, like grocery shopping, doing laundry, etc are now reminders of what you lost.
Simple conversations are riddled with bullets to the chest. People talking about their children and grandchildren brings up painful memories and longing for what could have been.
Meeting new people invites the standard "Do you have kids?" questions that stop me in my tracks. How do I answer that? If I say yes, they will expect a follow up of information. Age, sex, etc. Then I have to explain that our son is no longer alive. Can you say awkward and uncomfortable? But if I say no, I feel sick to my stomach. I feel like in one simple word, I've denied 18 years of life. Like he never existed. There is no easy answer. Most of the time I just try and change the subject and hope they don't notice.
Daily life as a grieving parent is an obstacle course of emotions. Some obstacles you learn to maneuver, and others will certainly trip you up.
We are not the same as we were before the accident. There is no way we could be. Things that once brought happiness, now are shadowed by pain. For example, baby announcements... I love babies. I used to get beyond excited when friends and family were bringing new life into our world. And don't get me wrong, I am still happy, but I am also heartbroken. It's like the emotions are battling inside of me, and I never know which one will win.
Every party and event is just one more thing our son is missing from. It's difficult to celebrate when all you want to do is break down. But you can't stop participating in life, either. Because if you do that, you feel guilty. When you lose a child, you feel an obligation to live on for them. So when you quit doing things, or give in to the depression, you are in some way doing them a disservice. Yet when you smile and laugh, you feel guilty that they cannot. That is another constant struggle.
So does it "get better"? No. It gets different. The pain is constant. You think of your child 24 hours a day. The initial shock of losing them may be gone, but the emptiness and sadness remain. They become a part of you. They effect everything you do, and every part of who you are. You try to find some kind of balance in your new normal, but it isn't easy. Emotional triggers are everywhere, all the time.
The rest of the world moves on, but we are trapped in this awful time warp. Each night reliving that moment, and each morning, remembering anew your loss. Such is the life of a grieving parent. This is our journey.