It’d been a grim day at the office. Eight people on our floor had been laid off. It wasn’t due to performance. Rather, it was the typical corporate restructuring you read about. Whether the rationale was to “gain efficiencies” or “realign verticals” was immaterial. The truth was that people lost their jobs. No buzz words would change that. It happens and it’s inevitable at a large company, but that doesn’t soften the blow. Regardless of the reason, it makes for a bad day.

I knew all eight victims of today’s round and was particularly close with two of them. They all worked in various departments and had jobs that, in hindsight, were easy targets on a day like this. For several of them, I knew about their personal life. I knew that Cathy had two children, but that her husband also worked. I also knew that Margaret was the breadwinner for her and her daughter. Today would be a significant life moment for all eight of my former coworkers. No matter how they rebounded from here, it would be a day they’d remember and a day on which their lives changed course, or at least that’d be the case for everyone but Ben.

I’d know Ben for the entire four years I’d been with the bank. I first met him when I worked in the branch. He’d filled in at our location as a floating teller and he and I’d hit it off. We were roughly the same age and were both into sports. He was always in a good mood and that made him impossible not to like. He always smiled, was always happy to see you, and was always engaging. His mood was infectious and it was enjoyable to have him around.

Over the next few years, we both progressed in the company and now worked in the main office. I’d move up to work with the commercial team and he was now with private banking. I saw him each day and he maintained the same cheerfulness he’d always had. It never shifted, never faltered. He never appeared to have a bad day. He never seemed overwhelmed or pissed off. He was just a happy person.

I was upset to hear Ben had been let go. I was angry for him and I was annoyed that the company had opted to remove such a positive energy in the office. I didn’t know what his other options were or if he’d thought about them before today.

I saw Ben in the hallway shortly after the news broke and approached him with my condolences. He responded with a smile. He explained that he understood. He knew things like this happened. He also wasn’t faking. He was legitimately fine. He acknowledged his concern for some of the others, knowing they had different personal situations than he did. He wasn’t married and didn’t have kids. He explained that he’d be fine.

At first I thought it was an act. I chalked his behavior up to fear or embarrassment, almost a facade to appear unaffected by the company’s decision. But, over the next two hours, I watched him go around the office and say his goodbyes. He wore a smile the entire time. He laughed and joked and exchanged numbers with people he wanted to keep in touch with. He was in a good mood. A sincere, good mood. In fact, Ben was in a better mood today than I was. And, it occurred to me that this didn’t only apply to today.

It was a hard thing for me to process. On the day he was fired, Ben was in a better mood than I was typically in on a given day. I didn’t think of myself as an angry or negative person. I wasn’t a pessimist. But, I wasn’t always happy and I wasn’t sure why. I was healthy, had a wife that I loved, and a home I was proud of. I had a decent job. Things could always have been better, but things could also have been far worse. In fact, things had been worse. When I had first met Ben four years earlier, I didn’t like my job. At that time, I was also still renting and my wife was still my girlfriend. I’d come a long way and was generally happier about my current place in life. But, that happiness had been fleeting. Once I’d adapted to my improved position, my mood had settled back to its normal state, somewhere between reasonably content and longing for more.

Ben, on the other hand, had always been the same. Always happy. No matter his job or the day’s events, he was happy. He lived a happy life. It was a remarkable thing to witness and it was something I wished to emulate.

Ben lived in a mindset above that of most people. He was pleased with life. That’s more than I could say for myself. I spent a lot of time thinking of how things could improve and I often underappreciated how good things already were. Ben was appreciative of everything. He knew that life was good and that it was filled with pleasant opportunities to engage and explore. I wanted to be more like Ben. As he said his last goodbye and exited the office for the last time, I stood in jealous amazement of the guy who’d just lost his job.