As many you now know, my best friend Beni died last weekend.
As of today, we have no official reason for his death. He was buried hours later, and to my knowledge none of us from UMBC or AEPi were present.
I want to offer my deepest condolences to Beni’s family. He was a great brother and a greater friend to me.
Friends and family from all over have been calling to offer condolences, share memories, and to ask the dreaded question, “so how are you coping?”
Well, I’m not.
Out of all of his fraternity brothers, I was the closest one to Beni, followed by my other best friend, Ari Ne’eman. Beni genuinely looked up to the two of us, and we in return, treated him like he was our family, because he was.
From crazy trips to Georgetown and shopping sprees at Tysons, to searching for the elusive “European jeans” in no less than 8 stores, Beni and I had a very close relationship. He was one of the few fraternity brothers who actually has met my family, and one of a select few friends who I trusted blindly. A brother once remarked that, “if Caveman is Hamza’s right hand man, then Beni is his left.” It was true. Whenever it was for AEPi, Beni was one of my most reliable and ready brothers. But that’s less important than what he meant to me as my little brother: my last two years at UMBC he was my very best friend.
From 2:00 AM conversations about the deeper meaning of G-d’s words in the Torah, to constant reminders to brothers to study the Pirkei Avot, Beni was in love with his religion, and with our God. His dedication to religious service transcended just his own faith; he often reprimanded me for not being observant enough of my own. “HaShem gave you guys the tougher job,” he once mused, “[worshipping] five times a day isn’t easy.” What struck me most was his compassion for others, including my ex-girlfriends–all of whom he chided me for leaving. “One of these days you’re going to miss [name goes here], she’s your greatest fan.” And he was always theirs.
Our loss of Beni came at a time where several brothers, including myself, were annoyed with some of his less favorable qualities. But in our hearts we all loved him, a no one more than me. And he loved us (though he didn’t always show it). We were the closest thing many of us ever had to a real family, especially me.
With no disrespect in mind, I have yet to visit him where he lies today. That’s because in the face of my brother Hassan’s IEP, my mortgage, and a rather complicated friendship I happened to be in the middle of untangling (and hopefully salvaging), the one person I would always confide in isn’t picking up his phone anymore. He’s left it behind, to go to paradise.
And it’s tough. Tougher than anything I fought through yet. Beni wasn’t just one of my best friends, he was my brother. In the most deepest and profound way, he was my little brother. And I couldn’t save him last Saturday night. I wasn’t there to talk to him, or see whatever was wrong that day was handled for him.
I wasn’t there to be his big brother.
Both Beni and I had a lot in common growing up, and a lot more in common in our personalities. Our age difference of two years was enough that I could always be there to advise him on personal issues. But it was also enough for us to feel like actual kin. A member of my already tiny family just died. And I don’t want to cope. I just want to act like it hasn’t happened.
Nothing can express the hellish loneliness I endure in what I am feeling. Nothing can explain how much I miss you, Beni. Nothing.
I want to let my brothers Matthew “Leprechaun” Glassman, Josh “Deuce” Levine, and Ari Ne’eman know that you are my closest friends, and I love you guys very much.
Rest in peace, brother. We can’t wait to see you in Heaven, insha’Allah.
