This past Friday I lost a good friend.
Ben Rasberry was truly one of the great ones. An original thinker, a creative individual, and one of the funniest guys I have ever known. He was 35 years old.
I have been trying to collect my thoughts and write about Ben for a couple of days now. Each time I start, I get sidetracked thinking about all the great times we had. It’s easy to do, because there are some really great memories there. And at the same time, there aren’t enough. We live our lives thinking that we have all the time in the world, and we get reminded that we don’t. Sometimes in the worst ways. I still cannot believe my friend is gone.
I first met Ben and his future wife Ami several years ago, and we became good friends quickly. Together with our better halves, Ben and I would have a good time whether it was wandering around Azeroth in World of Warcraft, catching a weekend of goofy movies, or just hanging out and playing board games and poker. Often Ami’s friend Leah (and later Leah’s husband Gerald) would join us and we always had a blast. Whenever the ladies were talking, Ben and I could sit and have endless conversations about everything and nothing. Things like which Voltron was the better one (the Lions, of course), were Angry birds Really “angry” or just misunderstood, or if you could “think about the thought you think of when you are thinking” (try saying that 3 times fast).
And there were the laughs. I have never met anyone who could go from quiet and stoic to goofy and hilarious in one beat and, in doing so, Ben would have you laughing immediately. He always had these voice impressions, often involving a few choice characters, that put everyone in stitches. Ben’s Arnold Schwarzenegger voice was hilarious and unbeatable, and to this day I can hear it in my head. I remember Ben could crack a joke with impeccable timing, for any situation. Because of this, if there ever was a tense situation Ben would disarm it with ease. Many times in my life I failed at being a peacemaker like that, or knowing the right thing to say. Ben always knew the right thing to say, and you knew he meant it. Ben was one of the most authentic and genuine people I have known. As a co-worker said at his memorial, there was no “work Ben” or “home Ben” — Ben was just “Ben” every single day. It was really moving to see so many of Ben’s Apple co-workers and friends at his memorial service on Monday.
I learned many things from Ben. I remember how Ben helped me actually learn to use Apple Logic and countless other skills, or how he taught me how to play Texas Hold ’Em. Despite always having a smile, Ben had a great poker face and bluffed me out of several hands. Together he and Ami would run the table, and it was always good fun. Most of all, I will never forget Ben’s biggest lesson to me: the glass is always half-full if you want it to be. He lived his life in a humble gratitude that I know I will spend my life trying to master.
I also remember how Ben could make our dog Jackson sing. Literally! I have that saved from an iPhone video somewhere, and it’s a classic Ben moment.
In September 2011 Ben and Ami had a son, Alex, and you could tell that Ben was insanely happy to be “dad”. You could see it every time he was with Alex and in every picture and video. As painful as the loss is for everyone, I remain thankful for the time Ben did get with his son. I think about my own father’s passing when I was about a year and a half old. I had maybe 2 pictures of me with him, but Alex will have tons and tons of photos. For that I know Alex will be thankful one day.
I last spoke with Ben on the 16th and 17th of this month. He was in the hospital for a brief but painful and complex illness. Looking at him and speaking with him, I really thought Ben had turned a corner. I never once thought that might be the last time I would see him alive. We thought Ben would be back home in a couple weeks after probable surgery. We all did. His passing came as a shock for me and his countless friends and family. Ami was by Ben’s side throughout the whole ordeal and was so strong for him. I will never forget hearing about Ben sitting up in the hospital bed to take a picture with Alex. When Ami shared that picture with my wife and I, we just lost it.
It was an honor and privilege to know Ben, learn from him, and to watch him become such a great husband to Ami and father to Alex. You simply do not meet people like Ben often in life, if ever.
Rest in peace Ben. You were gone far, far too soon buddy…and I know we will meet again.
Originally published at julianwest.me on August 28, 2013.