David,

I won't claim to understand your feelings or from where they come; I can tell you I experience feelings of grief that lead me to tears upon occasion . . . I'm not happy with materialism, consumerism, greed, war, death, hatred, etc. . . . I do not believe the world or our country are slipping into darkness . . . tribulation and sorrow comes to all of us individually, and as a whole . . . but there is always hope and love and joy and happiness . . . I believe love will always triumph over hate,  hope over despair, joy over sadness . . . yet sorrow and pain will still come . . . you and Springsteen are the bards I most cherish because you sing of the sorrow and darkness in life, yet in your words and music and lyrics there is always hope . . . I can't tell you how many times I've listened to your music and words, crying, screaming, not understanding why things are so fucking awful, and made it through till morning . . . through the death of mom (Therese) and the death of my uncle (Mark) and the end of a relationship I truly thought was forever (Vickie) and the end of a marriage I knew would end eventually (Jamie) . . . you were there, with others, to get me through the dark, scary hours of the night, when awful thoughts creep into the heart, when moving forward seems impossible, when love seems lost . . . then the sun rises . . . someone, somewhere smiles and the realization comes that there is always good and beauty in the world . . . And I have always said a silent thanks to you and the others for getting me through another lonely night . . . I wish I had the power to get you through yours . . . I owe you many, many nights . . . but I will be thinking of you . . . singing fiercely to your songs of hope and dreams and love and life (after reading your post I had to put on your music—"maybe it ain't over, I can see its up to me, your only out when you stay out, you stay out when you don't believe)  and maybe some time, some where, we'll sip a little and sing a lot, remembering the pain and celebrating life . . . Happy Easter and Spring to you, your son, and all you love . . .

David Madrigal