In memory of Finn

Finn is a little boy who loved music. And anything "Cars"-related. And he has the most amazing family. I know this whole-heartedly, even though I've only had the briefest of encounters. You see, they've been busy. Consumed with capturing life's best moments, and blazing through a lifetime of smiles and memories in a very, very short time.

Finn had cancer. Everywhere. And despite the best efforts of international teams of professionals and friends and family, Finn passed away on Thursday night.

Throughout Finn's life with cancer, Finn's dad did a truly remarkable thing for each of his children: he documented special snippets of joy that each of them shared with their brother. They made a conscious effort to live for smiles, and measure their success as a family by the quality and quantity of those smiles.

Because it was Finn's wish to be remembered, I share with you the last journal entry I received:

Last night at approximately 11:00 p.m., I died. A strange thing death, but it was time. My body was so tired, and so heavy. Tired enough to sleep the sleep of sleeps. Heavy enough that I craved lightness more than anything else.

I thought about going earlier, around 7:00 p.m. but I heard daddy say that Sarah and Baird weren't there, and I decided to wait.
Then Sarah and Baird got back, but there were lots of people in our room, and I decided it wasn't time. So I waited. Then it was Backyardigans time, just me, Baird, Sarah, mommy and daddy. When it was just us, I knew it was o.k.

Daddy and mommy had explained to me about the next journey, and like I said, I was tired. I went peacefully and quickly with my Backyardigans there with me. My Baird. My brother. My Sarah. My sister. My mom. My dad.

Before the end all I could do was sleep. While Baird, Sarah, mommy and daddy got to say goodbye to me, I didn't really get to
say goodbye to them. This is my chance.

Dearest Baird. Thank you for being my best friend and twin brother. I cannot imagine how I could have lived my journey without your constant support and laughter. You helped make the abnormal normal. I will miss our laughs over nothing and doing nothing over laughs. You have helped me so much and I am so sad I had to leave before I could give you
more back. This cancer thing is so stupid and so weird, but nothing you did made it happen and everything you did helped me stay happy. Carry me with you always. I will be in your crooked smile and in your drum sticks. I will be in your speed and on your laughter. And always upon always I will be your twin. And you will be mine.

Dearest Sarah. You are the most incredible, biggest hearted sister a brother could ever have. Thank you for sitting with me and stroking your face with my hand. Your courage was an inspiration to me always. At the end, you were the most courageous of all. Despite knowing what was happening to my body, and despite your fear of the intense sadness that
knowledge imparted, you held me close. You touched me and told me you loved me. That was so important to me and helped me so much. Thank you also for your silliness and your heart warming ability to help me find my smiles. I know that you will carry me with you always. I will be there in your silliness and in your feral dancing. I will be in your hugs and in your courage. And always upon always I will be your sweet sweet Finny (with the bo bo binny).

Dearest mom. I am so sorry for your sadness. You carried me, and loved me, and held me. I have no salve for your sadness, no answer for the pain. I do have a request. Laugh for me. Dance for me. Love my brother. Love my sister. Love my dad.

Dearest dad. Thank you for your words. For telling my story. For finding a way to comfort me in the scariest times. For finding the words that let me go.

To everyone else. Bounce. Run. Jump. Dance. Sing. Love. Smile. Remember me.