Denny was one year ahead of me in grad school and a close friend. We shared so many plans about our future! I knew he was gay, but his bisexual partner was the only other person in on that secret. This was the 1960s, and coming out wasn’t an option back then if you planned to be employed in certain professions.
After graduation, Denny took a job at another university. I joined him there a year later, and we continued our friendship. Because he was gay, we could talk about intimate things with no fear of crossing the line into sexuality. The man I was to marry was on a supply ship in Vietnam, so I depended on Denny a lot for emotional support. He was fun, easy to be with. He was also mildly bipolar, so he could, at times, sink into darkness. During those times, he would see a therapist, and he always pulled out. On one occasion, when I was away, he signed a letter “And I remain . . . unfortunately, Denny.” That frightened me, but he pulled out that time as well.
But then one Monday morning, Denny didn’t show up for work. A friend from New York called the department frantically, saying he’d told her on the phone on Friday night that he had decided to do it. She thought she’d talked him out of it but had been unable to reach him the rest of the weekend.
The police went to Denny’s home and found him, dead, with an empty bottle of sleeping pills beside him. A suicide note was in his Royal typewriter. In the note, he left his books to me. I was devastated. I should have seen it coming. At first, I resented the fact that he didn’t call me, but then I realized why: He knew I would drive over and try to stop him. I fell into depression myself, seeing his empty office daily.
It took me six months to pull out of my depression. I took a new job in Hawaii, which turned out to be a good decision. It was impossible to remain depressed there, amid the relaxed culture, new friends, and colorful flowers and birds.
Finally, I let Denny rest in peace in my heart. But forget him? Never. I still miss him.
Pris Campbell
Lake Worth, Florida
26 thoughts on “Moving On”
Moving on — how do we ever find the strength to move on from such things? I am sorry that Denny struggled the way he did. Depression does not discriminate, which is a sad thing to admit when considering a person who couldn’t be themselves for fear of discrimination. Thank you for sharing your story, Pris, as sad as it is to recount.
Thank you, Katie
Yes, it was very hard for him
Such a deeply poignant story, Pris. Suicide touches so many lives it’s hard to imagine. Your deep connection with Denny makes this even more unfathomable to bear. Time, distance, re-location can all help with the healing process, but nothing can erase the memory, and that tug at your heart you get when you remember a lost one. Thanks for sharing this story. A well-deserved publication.
Richard, thank you for your deeply understanding comment.
Your storytelling here is tender and sad, Pris. I myself have rarely had this kind of friendship where the longing after its end remains with me years later. Contrary to you, I believe I am not people person. And it has stymied me in all of my creative endeavors.
Peace to you, dear friend.
We’re all different, thank goodness, and some people affect some of us more than others. I’ve seen your work and would certainly call you creative.
Deeply moving Pris – loss never gets easier. Sadly we all – once again – live in dreadfully judgemental times. I often think of friends who have gone – it’s the small details that trip me up…finishing a book and thinking ‘I’ll ring Aileen, she’ll love this…”. And then the sudden remembering.
Thank you for sharing this Pris
Alan, I can relate. For years I used to think I need to call and tell…..whoever…..and then remember…….
This is an all too sad reality, I returned from Afghanistan in 2011 and thought about this a lot in that first year back, it is easy to believe no one understands you even when they are living with you.
Matt, I agree with you. How lonely sonny of us are
Good friendships like Pris’ friend Denny are so important in our lives. For Pris, Denny gave her emotional support. Though this is a tragic story about the loss of her friend due to suicide while in the bloom of adulthood, Pris has given a beautiful and thoughtful tribute to her best friend from the 1960s. The ending sentence is spoken truth–we never forget such wonderful friends. Their presence haunts our thoughts and walks in the paths of our hearts that may have found peace, but never quite heal.
You’re right. They never leave our hearts.
Loss in itself is not the problem. It is our memories of the person that makes there departure so raw.
Mike, you said it so well. The. Memories…..yes, raw.
What a profoundly moving tribute to friendship, love, and loss. Your words bring Denny’s struggles to life so vividlly. This story is a powerful reminder of the silent burdens so many carry and the complex emotions left in the wake of suicide. Thank you for sharing this deeply personal story. You honor Denny beautifully by letting others see the depth of your bond and the lasting imprint he left on your life.
Art, thank you for honoring that bond. It makes it so hard when they leave by choice .
Beautifully written. I started to recall suicides from when I worked in a psychiatric facility and the universe feeling that we should have done more – but WHAT?????
That :s the big question. How can we really know when the person will make that choice?
Loss in itself is not the problem. It is our memories of the person that makes there departure so raw.
Beautifully composed. thank you.
I started recalling the suicides of patients I knew when working in a psychiatric facility. We all felt we should have done more – but what???
I also lost a loved one to suicide and know well the feelings that Pris describes –. questioning, anger, guilt and sadness. It’s a very difficult loss to recover from because people don’t want to talk about the deceased and because of that the normal shared grieving experience is disrupted. However, like Pris I was able to release him and move forward.
Suicide is indeed hard to move past. So true that friends and family don:’t want to mention the person,,’s name to you after and normal grieving is indeed disrupted . Thank you for sharing.
Ouch, Pris. Someone described such a loss as “a hole in the road.” We learn to step around it and try to avoid falling in over time. How bittersweet that he left you his books.
(((Hugs)))
You describe it well. Thank you.
How wonderful that Denny found acceptance with you. Judgement has always been deadly, and unfortunately, lately it seems we have gone backwards, allowing judgement to become acceptable once again. To face judgement for both sexual orientation and illness must have seemed an insurmountable hurdle.
A very right on observation about judgment increasing again. Yes, Denny did a lot of hiding back then and it was hard on him.