Today is the beginning of Suicide Prevention Week. It's fitting, as it's also the birthday of someone we lost to suicide. Every year gets easier, but that doesn't mean this young man is any less missed. While he took his own life, and I think of him whenever I hear of someone doing the same, he was SO much more than that one act.
Denny's favorite character was Spider-Man, and that was later his nickname. He could climb wall jambs all the way up to the top. He had this funny little way of running where his legs would piston and rush, but his back would be ramrod straight. His karate bag when I drove him to practice weighed almost more than he did, and watching him heft it in the car was funny. He was caring and generous to my son the way pre-teens rarely are. He was surrounded by music his whole life, and he found his own ways to express himself through music appreciation and playing. Art was another of his loves, and his drawings were everywhere in his home. But in the end, he was still at the mercy of his inner demons, as so many young men and women are today. He had a host of people who interacted with him lovingly on a daily basis, which makes his choice so much more difficult for the rest of us to bear. So many young people today don't have a support system, and that means they don't even have a sliver of a chance.
I'll always think of him as Cubby's idol and wish he was still here.
Happy Birthday, Denny. We still miss you. I hope you've found the peace you never had when you were with us. You deserve it.
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