WHY I RIDE:

I ride for Finn.

I ride because one of the last things Finn said to me was "daddy, you have a big belly".

I ride because my heart aches with loss.

I ride to change other futures.

I ride because 65 miles is not enough miles for the number of anaesthetics' Finn endured.

I ride for a lost friend.

I ride for a brother's silent tears.

I ride for a sister's wise sadness.

I ride for a mother's grief and her search for answers.

I ride because I can't hold his hand anymore and I want to, I so desparately want to.

I ride so others don't have to cry these tears.

I ride for purple and pink and for sunshine coming through the window.

I ride for full moons and Finnrises.

I ride for drum sticks and feral dancing.

I ride for better answers and fewer questions.

I ride for life. I ride for living.

I ride because I can, and maybe, just maybe, someday they will tell me that someone can because I ride.



My name is Patrick Sullivan. I am 42 years old and live in North Vancouver, British Columbia. While this may come as no surprise to you after you read this, I hate cancer and am determined to do everything I can do to fight it. I hope you’ll join me.

I come to the Coast to Coast Ride as a story-teller for my son Finn, for Finn’s twin brother Baird and for Finn’s big sister Sarah.

Finn was born in June of 2005, one minute after his brother Baird and less than three years after his sister Sarah. From early days Finn was a rambunctious, serious, active boy. He came by his love of speed, running, jumping, dancing and singing at an early age and those loves helped him keep his head up and chin forward through some very difficult times.

In February 2007, at around 21 months, Finn was diagnosed with a rare form of childhood cancer called Rhabdomyosarcoma. By the time the tumour was discovered, it was grapefruit sized. And so our medical journey began. A year of chemotherapy. Over 70 anesthetics. Numerous surgeries, big and small. Removal of the tumour. The introduction of a pee bag. The colostomy came later. Unblocking and stenting blocked ureters. Two months in Boston. Thirty radiation treatments. Specialized treatment in Spokane. There were definite peaks and valleys but through it all Finn kept speeding, running, jumping, dancing and singing. Head up and chin forward.

And by February 2008 it was supposed to be over. And for three glorious months we thought it was. Then another MRI. The cancer was back. In the lymph nodes. Incurable. I hate that word.

And so we fought for time and quality. We began trading in a currency of smiles and we tried to love enough for a life time.

And through all this, and despite all this, Finn ran, he bounced, he jumped, he sang, he danced, he smiled and he loved.

Until it ended. On October 9, 2008.

And coming on two and a half years later, Baird, Sarah, Sam and I still miss Finn every day. I don’t think that will ever change.

Once in the quiet of bedtime (last year while he was still four), Baird asked me to stay with him because he didn’t want to be alone. I reminded Baird that he is not alone and that Finn is always in his heart. Through his tears, Baird told me that, “yah, but I want him here”. What do you say to that?

Sarah also misses her little brother. Last year, while still seven and without any prompting, Sarah wrote a letter to Finn in heaven. She didn’t tell us that she had done so. She just started leaving an envelope to be picked up. First she left the envelope with the angel statue. When that didn’t work, she moved the envelope to the mail box. Eventually Sam realized what Sarah was doing and asked Sarah about the envelope. Not long after that, the envelope managed to get delivered to heaven.

While Finn’s story is a sad one, the story for us is not about the sad. Ultimately, Finn’s story is not about October 9, 2008. Finn’s story is about how Finn lived and what amazing things he managed to Finnspire in his three short years.

Finn managed to do these things because of the way he lived. While he lived, Finn taught us a mantra. A mantra that our family and in turn, Team Finn carries with us. The mantra is Run Jump Bounce Dance Sing Love Smile and Ride.

The mantra comes from Finn. Finn lived it every chance he got. Finn loved life and lived life large despite constant medical interventions.

And because of all of that, and because of so much more, I Ride.

So, if nothing else, do me a favour. Remember Finn. Remember him as he was. A special boy who accomplished special things. Remember him as the boy who lived despite cancer. Do not remember him as the boy who died because of cancer.

You might also be interested in knowing that Finn is not done. People have changed who they were and how they were because of Finn. An army of pink rides to celebrate his life. Finn brings tears, but he also brings laughter.

To learn more about Finn and what he has and is Finnspiring, feel free to visit TeamFinn.com. Because if you have managed to make it this far, the chances are that you have already been touched by an angel.