As I pulled my car into to my driveway at the end of such a beautiful day yesterday, I was reminded of the loss of a good person. Ryan Ballas and I worked together from June 2006 to September 2007. Sometimes I wish you would know ahead of time that on the last day you see someone, it is the last day. That Fall, Ryan would become very ill, and by winter he would be hospitalized.
It was not easy to get to know Ryan. Maybe he just had a better filter between his head and mouth than I do. Or maybe his illness made him protective of what he shared with others. Those who did take the time to know him, though, knew him to be a good person and loyal friend. If you got him going on his favorite topics, you could have a long IM chat.
One month ago today, my friend Ryan passed away. It was hard for me to accept that Ryan died at only 33, never getting the chance to work full time in IT, never dropping that filter long enough for all of the office to get to know him better, never getting the chance to see one more beautiful Spring day.
But dropping that filter was never Ryan's thing; it's mine. He never told any of us about his illness.
So what was Ryan's thing?
Ryan was a part-time IT middleman. In other words, non-IT folk gave
him their problems, which he'd try to resolve or send elsewhere. It's
not an easy role. On one end you are the gatekeeper in the way of
someone getting what he/she wants. On the other, you are the low techie
on the food chain; that meant that others may try to pull some
hierarchical bullying from time to time.
It's easy for us to get caught up in our own jobs, to become goal-oriented, and forget that we are working with people not machines, especially if you don't even see the person on the other end of your communication, as with IM, email and support request systems.
All of a sudden, that human being becomes an object, not my friend Ryan with friends, family and feelings. He becomes an obstacle, and we don't even bat an eye over knocking him down to getting to our goal. However, humans are different than machines in that they have feelings, remember what we say and do to them, and have allies. As I noted yesterday, knocking them down may get us to our immediate goal, but not to any long-term one.
So how best to honor Ryan Ballas' memory?
That's why I need you help. Do Ryan Ballas, yourself, and people you work with a favor. Get to know them. Before being frustrated, harsh or critical, see the person behind the process.
(In memory of Ryan Ballas. I wish I could have done more for you...)
Dear Blog Readers,
I wrote this post back in mid-April and barely three months later, I am already faltering at times in the task I set before us.
As fate would have it, Ryan Ballas befriended someone long ago who, not knowing of his passing, came to this blog to get the sad news and emailed me. From someone I have never met before, I learned more about what a great person Ryan was and how even after his death, Ryan keeps bringing us together, refusing to let us forget our purpose.
I came back and reread this blog, realized I need to recommit to my purpose, and I hope you will too.
Thanks, Friend of Ryan. Thanks, Blog Readers, for joining us.
Nikki MK
Oh, Nikki. Your memories are beautiful and your words are so profound. Ryan was always quietly there; I do miss him. Thank you.