The last week has been rough. Like, I think, a lot of the people who knew Ben Parsons I’ve spent the past few days shuffling through the grieving process and hoping to land on something like gratitude. Parsons was a rare beast; we were lucky to catch a glimpse.
Ben lived a beautiful kind of paradox. He managed to possess all at once those traits that endear us to each other, but that tend to be mutually exclusive. He was simultaneously gregarious and humble, hilarious and kind.
On Sunday hundreds of people walked together to the top of Big Mountain to share a moment of silence. Hundreds more sent thoughts and prayers from around the world and made it clear that Ben touched countless lives.
But what truly set Ben apart was that those hundreds of people also touched him. Over the last few days we’ve heard stories and shared memories. The common chorus is a reflection on how important family, friends, community were to Ben. Each person hurting now knows not only that he was important to us, but that we meant every bit as much to him.
Ben was willing, like no one else I’ve known, to let the world in. To actually care for everyone around him. To let each of us touch and change him the way he challenged us and improved every one of our lives. Ben’s rareness, his uniqueness, was in his unmatched capacity to love.
This is as much at the center of our loss as it is to his legacy and lasting influence. We can all strive to live and love a bit more like Ben.
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Thank you for such a well written and heart felt eulogy. I didn’t know Ben. I do now.