tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071987.post113971309946891974..comments2023-03-31T21:24:43.526-07:00Comments on Rainy Nights: Wave After WaveKen Bradstockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12888659961105175909noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071987.post-1170437479405502312007-02-02T09:31:00.000-08:002007-02-02T09:31:00.000-08:00Dear Ken,I came to your site from another blog who...Dear Ken,<BR/>I came to your site from another blog who was a nurse. I have recently had my dad pass away here at home. We had hospice come to the house and I had never met the chaplain even though he had contacted me a couple times by phone offering help. Now, reading your stories which are so compassionate and so close to home, I wonder if I should have taken the chaplain up on his assistance. I want to thank you for writing of your experiences with those whom you have known. I find them so touching and you give me hope in a world that is too often hopeless. You also give me company and so I know that I am not alone in how grief has affected me.Thank you and the best to you. Joyce H.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071987.post-1141492011617597132006-03-04T09:06:00.000-08:002006-03-04T09:06:00.000-08:00Dear Ken,You must have experienced this... grief i...Dear Ken,<BR/>You must have experienced this... grief is like a tide, a swell that takes you over, only to recede again. And it keeps coming back, over and over. We cannot keep the tide of grief away, as much as we might like to. And yet, those swells that run through us, leaking out of our hearts and eyes, soften us. For me, this softening has allowed true joy to find a place in me as well. I know this experience of a sad and joyful heart - the richest feeling in the lexicon of human emotion.<BR/><BR/>Thank you, Ken.Meredithhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09432640322896933989noreply@blogger.com