In loving memory of our oldest son Benjamin
11/27/21, Laguna Hills, CA
My testimony at the Funeral Service
“Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God”. Psalm 42:5
Benjamin was born on a beautiful early Monday morning of August 12, 1996 in a small and cozy community hospital in the city of Federal Way, Washington.
Ben was born about a year after we got married. Valera and I were 21 years old. We lived in US about 3-4 years at that point.
Ben was the first grandchild to my parents and first nephew to my three sisters and brother. It would be an understatement to say that our family was joyous. The landline phone in my parent’s house rang nonstop. The entire Slavic community took part in rejoicing and congratulating us all. Benjamin was the light of our world and one of the biggest blessings and rewards from God.
He taught me how to be a mom and was an easy test run that set me up to raise the rest of the kids. His childhood was my training ground as a mother.
Ben’s mind was something else. By age two he was proficient in rolling the “r”s and “zh’s” and “l”s of the Russian language. He would say “oguretz” “garazh” and “muzhik” without an issue.
I would shop at Macy’s for his clothing, and thankfully he never opposed me dressing him up in bow-ties and suspenders. Ever since, shopping for boys has been my favorite activity.
Ben started piano lessons at six years old and up until about two weeks ago, he played on that same piano. Before we hired a piano teacher, my husband went to the piano store and bought him the best piano there. He didn’t like playing piano at first, in fact he didn’t like it for the first 4-5 years but it was a mandatory and non-negotiable activity in our household. There was no bargaining about doing it or not. But when he turned ten years old, I noticed him developing a love for music, and playing the piano became something he did from his heart. Soon enough, I was falling asleep to lullabies, Ben playing worship music, Rachmaninoff, or the latest piano rendition of a pop song.
I tried to be there For Bеn as much as I could, yet he was there for me when I needed it. When he heard of my delayed travel plans and extended layover in San Francisco one time, he didn’t lose time and sent me his access to the Alaska lounge so I could sit in quiet, peace, and be fed with complementary food and beverages. He cared for me.
He cared not only for me, but for our family. When the dining table in our rec-room couldn’t fit everyone anymore, he built us a table from scratch. With the wood, sanding, tools, staining: he made it work, and every couple years would upkeep it with a fresh stain.
At sixteen, he was my number one shopping assistant at Costco. At the check-out line we would always try to guess what the grand total would be. He had a special knack for numbers so he would often guess closer.
By age 14 Ben has read the Bible in its entirety many times. When he was about 6 years old, Valera taught him Psalm 91 (90 in Russian).
My dream was for him to become a doctor. He was very detail-oriented, worked well with people, had a deep sense of empathy, and above all smart. School came very easily for him. I never had to worry, sit and help him with his schoolwork, or ask him to get better grades. From childhood he was placed in highly-capable classes and was in the top marks for reading and math. I regretted him not going into the medical sphere, but it was exciting to observe him enter into corporate America, a field so foreign to me, and especially to my immigrant family. He opened a world to me I’ve never known and quickly progressed and was promoted in the sales sphere of banking.
Ben was given to me as a gift for a brief time. I often said that our kids are not our own but Gоd’s gift to us for a very short time. Only after Ben’s death did the gravity of that statement have its full effect on me. It was truly a privilege to be his mother.
My prayers about Benjamin are now finished. The last we prayed with Ben was on the morning of his tragic death. On Saturday morning at 10 am I called to ask for Ben’s advice and to just share what was pressing my heart. I asked him to pray for me. After Ben told me his plan for that Saturday, I offered to pray for him, and he gladly agreed as he always did. There was always time for prayer when we talked. I am comforted to have this beautiful memory – my last “touch” with Ben was nothing else but prayer.
Now, this is the hard part – to all the mothers in this room: let us continue to be faithful and devoted to our children. We are not able to be perfect. Only God is perfect. We will do our part the best we can, and God will do the rest. Actually, God will do much more.
Love never ends. I will love you forever, Ben!
Ben is in the presence of God because of how he lived his life.
Hope during tragedy is only possible because of God.
“My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior” Luke 1:46
Mariya L. Gusenkov,
Mother of Benjamin Simon Gusenkov