Ben's Peace

 Lexington, Kentucky, 2005 to 2007

I met Ben while living in Kentucky and I had started a job as a Customer Service Rep, starting in PC sales, then digital cameras, then the new market of Apple iPods, as the iPod Specialist, then promoted to Customer Service Rep. I worked the front counter of the store, being the first person most people would see as they came in, assisting in product questions, repairs, complaints, returns/exchanges, and assisting managers with opening/closing the store and moving up to managing the department.

The first night I worked up front with him, he had come into work slightly disheveled, tired, and was frustrated with something.

I realized in all that time we had not really had time to talk and get to know one another because he had always worked up front and I worked in the various departments in the back.

When he realized we would be working together regularly, he gave me his biggest grin, slapped one hand down on my shoulder and said, “We, my friend, are going to have an awesome time up here!”

Since we were both students at the time, he attending University of Kentucky and I at Asbury Seminary, we would usually only see each other in the late afternoons, passing each other as we switched off shifts, or working together for the 6p-10p closing shifts. 2005-2007 we would work the odd afternoon and night shifts together.

Being one of the oldest employees there, the ripe age of 31, I could connect with Ben on some different levels -both being in school, trying to make sense of the world, figure out school/career goals, what’s my purpose questions, etc. At the not-so-ripe age of 19, Ben was still trying to figure out degrees, jobs, dating, following the UK sports programs, coming in after a night with friends, the average frustrations of life, and the like.

We would talk, philosophy, world religions, the end of the world/Book of Revelation, church relevance, sports, music, family. When holidays came around, we persevered through Black Fridays and Christmas rushes. Some nights I would just listen and let him vent. Other nights, I would let him know that God was watching, was with him, and loved him dearly. I saw in him, a part of me when I was at that age.

He told me about his seizures, that had started in college. Some days he would come in with a headache, and kind of out of it. Other nights he called in sick or was a no show for his shift. I often wondered if it was a seizure, or just wanting to hang out with friends instead of working. I hated those nights because it meant a quiet night at the front counter and closing by myself. He would come in the next shift, big grin, still pressing on. He would have a story to tell, or a joke to play off the skipped work shift.

He was always a guy for a hug, and would give me one when he was leaving for the night and feeling good about himself, life, or his plans for the night.

As I started training for management, I started to take more control of the department and working schedules. Ben wanted more hours, but part-time was all we had, as business slowed, the economy of 2006-2007 was slowing and competition between Circuit City/Best Buy continued, stores and our Kentucky distribution center closed. Starting wages for new employees was dropped from $8.75 to $7.40 and hours were getting cut. Since I was in training for management and running the CSA dept, I was somewhat safe, but even my hours were dropping. Lay-offs and severances were given. I saw less of Ben. Talks of company bankruptcy and store closings filtered down from management and we saw 3 managers cycle in to run the store and back out again.

Eventually, I had to decide what I was going to do, as my only class left to complete for my degree was a supervised ministry. I didn’t want to have to job search and go through unemployment again in Kentucky. Ben had shared the same about having to look for a new job and focusing on school, and as his days at CCity dwindled, I know he was searching for the next thing too.

I lost touch with him after a few more times when he came in to say hi and catch up.

I put in my two weeks notice and began to focus on packing, soul-searching about the move back to Michigan, and the friends I would soon leave behind. I stopped back a few times to visit the guys still working. Eventually, I was offered an opportunity to come back home to Michigan, and finish my supervised ministry and start my ministerial career as a licensed minister in my home church. God had opened a door for me to move home to family and start my career in ministry.

And I never forgot Ben or all of the guys and gals I worked with at CCity.

He especially came back to mind again, around Christmas/New Years of 2008, when on my first date with my future wife, Jackie. She and I had just had our first date, having met on Facebook and finally agreeing to meet. We had dinner and afterwards we stopped in the Circuit City of Brighton, MI, to see if I could find an iPod accessory for my dad’s new Christmas gift.

We walked in and the front counter brought back so many good memories – talks with Ben, hopes that he had found God, faith, hope, peace, and a future God promised him. All of the guys and gals I had worked with, I hoped that they were well and having a soon to be happy New Year’s 2008.

8 more years would pass before I would see him on Facebook. I made a few comments on photos. It looked like he was happy and hanging with family and friends. He looked happy.

I would look in on his page, on and off over the next 6 years, but not really reaching out or connecting with him but hoping he was well.

April 30, 2025

I was driving around for work, and Ben came to mind. I hadn’t really checked on many of the guys and gals from CCity in a while. So when my family headed off to bed, I jumped on to do some searching for updates. Many of them were doing well. Not on as much since now busy with spouses, kids, career. All seemed to be good.

I did a search for Ben and pulled up his page, looking to see when he had last updated his page or posts.

As his page loaded, I saw a gray box at the top of his post.

What the hell?!?

My heart sank, that stabbing, pinching feeling hit me in the nose and my eyes watered.

As I scrolled further, Ben’s obituary came into view.

I was a year too late.

He had passed away, May 2nd of 2024, and here I am finding him and seeing this 2 days to the anniversary of his death.

Crushed.

 I had hoped to say hi, offer to call, reconnect, hope he had found life and peace and happiness he had been looking for.

I looked through his obituary, the pictures, the comments. I didn’t know what to do. Just shocked. He was 12 years younger than me. He looked happy and healthy in the photos that were still on his page and in his friends’ posts as they gave condolences and grieved.

As I scrolled through, his last profile pic update had been 2022. I had commented that he must be like Keanu Reeves, he didn’t look like had had aged a day! I hoped he had seen it, but there was no response or like. As I looked through his timeline, it appeared that he had stopped posting and responding for at least the previous 5 years, like so many others. I grasped for memories we had together, conversations, laughs. I scoured through my hard drive backups and found the only two photos I have of him, taken on my first Samsung flip phone, of 2006.

 

 Perfect pic of typical Ben with me on the nights we had. 

I waffled on posting something on his Facebook page. Then decided that I loved him. I loved our time, those moments and conversations at CCity. I loved walking with him through that time of our lives so I wrote on his timeline and his obituary page. Just a simple post. I didn’t know if anyone would see it. But I needed to say hello again and goodbye.

I posted the two pics I had and a few paragraphs. Saddened, I said a prayer for his parents and family, I hoped he had found peace, I prayed that his passing was not tragic, in a sense of the word.

The next morning, I told my wife, Jackie, about what I had found out, the fond memories I had at CCity with everyone and how Ben and I had just clicked on different levels. I hoped I had made a difference, an impact, to help him.

All the day of May 1st, I played our conversations and memories, his laugh, slaps on my back, his love of when I would surprise him and Tyler by bringing in snacks. He always had comments about my lunches I packed. Eventually, I would pack enough of my lunch to share, or I would bring him in his own portions, especially when I would make lasagna or spaghetti. He loved it!

I wished I knew he was at peace. I wish I knew that he wasn’t alone.

As I finished my day of work on May 2nd, I settled in my heart that of all of the photos, the pics of family and him being together with friends and coworkers showed a young man happy with life. So I thanked God for his life, and that he had been happy.

I arrived home, settled in my chair, started to make dinner. Jackie was at a Color Run at her school. My son, Mason, was upstairs playing his Oculus VR with friends.

My phone started to ring, and I looked at the Caller ID

-- GORDON WICKE --

Now I am confused. How is Ben’s dad calling me? How did he get my number? Is this a spam call that someone had somehow gotten my info off the obituary, or they knew I was on BEN WICKE’s obituary and is spoofing the dad’s number to get me to pick up?

Welcome to the 2025 Privacy Wars...

I tentatively answer, and the gentleman on the other end, introduces himself as Ben’s father.

He apologized for the strangeness of the call and explained he had paid 5 dollars on Whitepages to get my phone number. I asked if everything was OK.

He shared that he and his wife Debbie, had been thinking about and grieving their son’s death, this being the one year anniversary of his passing. And they had came across my post on his obituary.

I was so thankful in that moment that I had posted something!

He and Debbie thanked me for my candidness and appreciated the pictures they had never seen of Ben at CCity. They appreciated how I had wrote as like I was talking to Ben directly.

I explained how I had thought about not posting, but I hurt that I had missed talking to and catching back up with him by a year, and that I needed to say goodbye. I shared with them what I had seen in Ben, the conversations we had, the hopes we had in life and figuring things out. I shared my grief that I had missed out on reconnecting with him.

I don’t believe in coincidences. I believe in moments, supernatural and love-filled miracles.

Gordon and Debbie let me know how Ben’s life had been and the struggles he had had in the past several years.

I asked politely if they would let me know if he was at peace, if he was happy with his life.

Gordon shared the following:

Phone Call – May 2nd, 2025 – the one year anniversary of Ben’s death, with Gordon and Debbie:

Some time around or early college, Ben started having seizures and they had became worse as he got older.

Upon graduating, He had started as web designer and marketing. He had been working on tech that was coming out recently to market, up until about 3 years ago.

The seizures had started to get worse and doctors were trying to monitor and control with meds, but accidents still happened. He had driven through an intersection and hit a tree.

He had driven off the road and into a house (it ended up being the home of someone his dad, Gordon, knew). He began to lose memories and couldn’t remember passwords to his work and PCs/devices for a day or more. Sometimes they would affect him for a day or so and he would be unable to walk. They installed cameras at work to monitor when they would happen, for how long, and how intense they were. Ben was stubborn and kept wanting to work and keep moving forward. Eventually he lost the job he loved, and then his home. At age 35-36, he moved back home to his parents’ home and Gordon and Debbie would help monitor him, help him through his seizures when they happened. The seizures would happen, they would love him, take care of him and assure him that things were OK. He hated being the 36 year old, living in his parents’ basement but they agreed it was the best and safest place for him to be.

He isolated himself from friends, they would call but he would not return their calls. He would tell his folks, “I am worried about my future,” and they would respond that they were worried too. His parents loved him. His family and friends loved him. He didn’t know what to do. A post he made in February of 2022, a serene winter yard of trees and snow – Ben enjoying a beautiful day.

He seemed at peace taking life one day at a time.

 

Seizures would continue and progress to knocking him down for days, and his parents could do nothing but let him lay there, making sure he didn’t choke or stop breathing. His parents were of Catholic background and would say the Rosary and have prayer, hoping for answers, for peace. Weeks before he passed, Ben asked to say Rosary and pray with them for peace, for answers, for assurances. He was reaching out in hope and in faith.

His days were broken up with family and activities, daily routines, and meds 2xs a day, once in the morning and another in the evening.

His parents noticed the morning May 2nd, that he had not been upstairs yet. Around 11am, they thought he might have had a rough night of broken sleep. A few hours later he still had not come up for his meds and morning routine.

They went down to his room and found he must have passed suddenly, most likely another seizure and he was laying next to his bed. It was May 2nd 2024.

I think the 3 of us, Gordon, Debbie, and myself were all looking for peace this one year later, from Ben’s passing.

Parents coping with the loss of their son too early. Myself grieving the loss of a friend and wanting to know he had had a good life, like he had wanted, and me coping with the bitter regret of having not reached out sooner.

As Gordon, Debbie, and I talked for about 30 minutes or so, we agreed that the past several days, my finding his obituary and making a post, them coming to the anniversary of his death, all wanting peace for Ben and his memory had to have been God’s movement for us to come together for this call, this moment. We didn’t know each other. We had never met or attempted to contact each other before this day. It had to have been a God-moment created simply by God having me say goodbye to a friend.

Gordon shared that since Ben had passed, they had no access to his old phone or iPad. “They are basically paperweights now.” He asked if I found any more pics of Ben, if I would text them to his phone to keep and share with Debbie. They are not on social media, and I described some posts Ben and his friends had up.

I shared appreciation and thanked them for taking care of him, supporting him, even thought it was not the life or circumstances he wanted for himself. Gordon believed Ben knew he was loved, and that he found a measure of life and peace with them even in his struggles. I thanked them for calling, because I had struggled the past two days, hoping that he was not alone when he passed.

Gordon understood. I shared with them my career as a hospice chaplain, and that I see families take care of one another every day. And from what he shared with me about their past 3 years, I affirmed they had done a beautiful and wonderful thing for Ben, taking care of him, assuring him, and praying with him. I was glad Ben had reached out for God in his last weeks with them.

We believe the past few days were God’s way of letting us know that Ben is at peace. He’s OK.

We said goodbyes, and I offered to keep their number in case they wanted someone to talk to, to send pictures I may find. I asked if I could write this story, a part of Ben’s and their story, and how we had miraculously come together to find this peace and assurance from God together. He affirmed I should.

I got off the call with such an overwhelming sense of peace and joy in hearing from them, that Ben had been with them, all I could do was to praise and thank God for answers to prayer tonight for all three of us, on the exact anniversary of Ben’s passing.

I don’t believe in coincidences often. I do believe in miracles and moments when God breaks into our world, into Kairos time – God-moments, that let us experience love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, and togetherness – Koinonia, a Greek term in the bible describing a deep intimate sharing and participation between us and God, and in shared life-fellowship with other believers.

Ben’s life and his story that night, brought us, the 3 of us, to that together. Mourning his death a year later and a year too late – but finding Ben’s peace with God is our peace. We came together for a miraculous moment to grieve together, and find God’s presence, love and peace together about Ben and our love for him as a son, and as a friend and fellow traveler on this sod called earth.

I hope you hear God when He speaks, tugs at your heart, puts someone in mind, that nagging sense that maybe you should reach out…

Take the moment!

Make the moment, if it is on your heart.

Don’t wait a year or 10 to check on that person that came to mind. If it’s pressing on your heart or spirit, they may need you. God may need you to hear and be obedient.

Don’t regret not calling, not visiting, not sending the card, not checking sooner, not writing. If they are on your mind and heart, it might be for a reason. They might need peace or koinonia with God and through your faith and actions to reach out.

Thank you, Ben, for our moments and for your faith and prayers, living to live while in your struggles. I will see you again.

Thank you, Gordon and Debbie, for your son and for your loving hands to hold him, to lift him up, to give him meaning and a future with you at that time. Even if it wasn’t the one he had hoped for, I believe he had love and faith and peace seeing your prayers, and God loving him through you and everyone he had with him through those times. I believe he found peace and the quiet joy he was looking for all along.

I hope, no matter our struggles and circumstances, we can each find God and this fellowship, those moments with one another to find a peace like Ben’s. I pray you will hear God speak and reach out to that someone He is placing in your heart today. God bless you, make those God-moments!

Benjamin David Wicke

October 12, 1984 – May 2, 2024