My Summer Stories 2020

Dear Joe, 

October 4, 2020

 Crisp air. 

Stunning sunshine. 

Fresh green leaves.

Rainbow shades of flowers.

Breathtaking touch of freedom, 

Holding tears deep within me. 

I remind myself that I am not alone. 

Two weeks flew by since I saw you last time, but I miss you, our unusual circumstances to lead us together, and everyone labeled as being “crazy.” I was not sure whether my tears were from anger or missing you.  

I am going to write a letter to you as a collective body of community of people whom I fall in love with when I met you. You, whom I named as Joe, represent the “male” figure of people, while G denotes a “female” figure, and I represent a collective body of counselors based on my twenty years of life as a licensed clinical professional counselor. I am a woman of color, Asian, Korean, mother of three children, and a baby of seven siblings. I am also a Christian devoted my life to live like Jesus as much as I could. Thus, I warn you that I will share my meaning-making of my experiences over this unforgettable summer stories of 2020. 

I do not expect my series of letters to reach out to you. I hope my letter would help me to have some sort of closure to my summer stories. I decided to write my letters to you because of your anger, yearning toward seeking justice, and your loneliness. I saw a partial reflection of me when I saw you walking in a circle in your darkroom. I saw one of my early patients, walking with you in your room. I do not recall his name anymore, but I do think of him once in a while. I saw your goodness peeking at me when you referred me as “ma’am.” I felt your genuine care when you asked me about my bruises in my arm. I was taken away by your salute as I walked out of our communal space. What was your salute about? I wanted to ask you, but I did not because I wanted to simply enjoy you at that moment. It was a bit silly and brightened the darkest moment of my life. That was good enough. 

I would stop when I become tearful when I write this letter to you and G. I wonder how you are doing now a day. I wonder whether you are alive. I wonder whether you would become homeless, walking around D.C. I wonder about G. Where is she now? Did she go to Texas? I doubt it. It does not matter at this moment. I only hope you two and many other people I fall in love with at our communal space still alive and try to live their lives at their best. I pray that you find your way home. I have so much to share with you. That is why I decided to write this letter as a way to close my summer and to start a new season of my life. I am simply blessed to meet you in the least expected circumstance in my lifetime. I also hope that whoever reads this letter would grow a glimpse of hope, shining through my summery stories while I share them with you. I miss you and I hold you in my prayer this morning. I will write you soon. Be well.

In grief and loss,

C.S.Taylor

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