I will admit it, I am emotionally retarded. To many I am distant. Stoic. I have shared my soul with only a few precious people. It’s not that I don’t feel, I am human. I just don’t share well with others what is inside my coat of armor.
I am impartial.
Balanced.
I am forever calm (one even called me her human Valium).
So, imagine my surprise the other week when I read a post on Facebook by a total stranger and then felt something stir somewhere deep inside my heart. What the heck? Was that a chink in my cold, hard armor I heard?
Yup. Teena Hauxwell-Finn’s FB post touched me .. deeply… on what loss is. On what love is. On what grief is. On what gratitude, courage and humanity all are. Something pushed me to move into an uncomfort zone. I reached out and asked Teena if I could share her family’s story. Normally I wouldn’t ask someone to talk about how that someone is dealing with the loss of their son, their only child. But, compelled beyond myself, I did.
Teena and husband Dan Finn, Jr., agreed and invited me into their home to talk about their son Zach, who died in an automobile accident two months after he graduated from Clarkston High School, on Aug. 4, 2012.
They talked with me to share what they have learned, their hopes. Oh, the post that started this? Here’s part of it:
It means so much to Dan and I that so many of you participate in Zach’s birthday each year. We know that many of you never knew our son, so I thought I’d take a moment and share a little about him.
Zach lived 18 incredibly full years. He loved cars, tennis, snowboarding, reading, and so much more. Zach could rarely be found without a smile on his face. He truly loved life.
He had a compassionate soul, and often went above and beyond to help loved ones and strangers . . with your help, we can carry on his legacy of kindness, and keep his spirit alive.
Whatever you choose to do, be it small or grand, it will make a difference. Not only to the recipient, but to us.
December 4 will be a hard day, but seeing the good deeds done in Zach’s name/memory will definitely help ease our pain.
Like any parent, I — we — all hold are breathes, hoping beyond all hope that nothing will happen to our children. We are not meant to outlive our kids. And, for most of us that is the way it works. It’s easy to forget though, it isn’t that way for everyone.
Life is not all unicorns, rainbows and glitter. It can suck. It often does, but sometimes, just sometimes you run across people who were dealt a devastating blow and how they chose to live just makes you think, “Hey, there is hope for us all.”
There, in their reddish-orange painted apartment, among the gnomes, Leggo figures, art and with a big ol’ fat cat, we talked and laughed. They shared their grief and how they live with it; how others deal with them about Zach. But, mostly they shared their hopes for their son’s lasting legacy.
“The pain doesn’t go away. But it changes. It feels different — it’s not out in front,” Teena, 36 says.
“I think of him every day,” Dan, 39 adds. “It is very natural to go dark. You have to work to stay positive.”
“Zach was always smiling,” Teena recalls. “He was disturbingly happy all the time. I remember telling him, ‘stop smiling, we’re cleaning the toilet!’”
As time has moved on, the couple learned to continue on in the face of their difficulty. They have persevered, not merely survived. They off-road rally race. Zach designed the Team Finn logo. They read, watch TV, go to work and stick to the things which brings them joy. They are living.
Says Dan, “You really learn what is important. I was one of those who lived to work and worked to live. I wasn’t like Zach, but after he died I made a decision to be more like him.”
The Finns are not asking anybody for anything. It’s not about them, it really is about finding a reason to do the things we should do every day we are on this planet: Love, respect and doing for others.
This December 4 is Zach’s 22nd birthday and a day many people will do random acts of kindness and compassion in his name. Be nice to your fellow humans and each time you do, think of the name Zach Finn.
Bless you, Teena. Bless you, Dan. Thank you for sharing. I am grateful for you. I am grateful for your loss, your courage and easygoing grace. Though I never met Zach, I am grateful for him and how he continues to inspire. I hope with all I have in my heart, that I am a better man because of you, Team Finn.
If any reader has a Facebook account and wants to share your plans of good tidings, search for Good Deeds for Zach and share with others know how it went.
Pay it forward.