Dear Joe, Go Home.

It is another rainy day, Joe. I miss you so much. I should have sung a song for you when you asked me. I could have done for you on my last day at the hospital. I only sang one line of this song, “You Raise Me Up” (Up), when you asked me to sing for you and other folks at the meeting room. I should have got up and sung for everyone. You are the only one who told me that I am a good singer.

I sang Up more than a hundred times during my five days of stay with you. I wonder whether you heard me singing and humming. What made you say that I was a good singer? You must have heard me because you walked around the hallway a hundred times. I sang Up as a way of prayer. How about you? What made you walk around the hallway? Was it just for exercise only? I have so many questions to ask you, but I am going to hold them for now. I have a pile of work to catch up on, my friend.

I have one thing to ask you this rainy and chilly morning in December 2020. Go home. I imagined myself singing Up song for you this morning in my car on the way to work. I was almost yelling rather than singing. I know you heard me. I could not even finish that song. You raise me up, Joe. I need you to be safe in this cold weather. If you are still out there “experimenting” being homeless in D.C., it is enough. You could insult so many homeless out there who do not have any place to go. I worked with those folks for several years. Winter is a ferocious season for them. The holiday season is just around the corner. I need you to go home. Please. I beg you to go home. If you do not want to talk to your mother, so be it. Stay in your room. So be it. Stay alive until I see you. I will sing Up song just for you. It has to be face to face. Do not tell me to sing “virtually.” It is never the same. I should have sung that song for you right there when you asked me. Darn it.

Just in case you wonder, I am still alive. I hope you are still out there breathing and walking toward your home in Sykesville, MD. I pass by that town couple of times a week. What are the odd you live in that town? Whenever I pass by, I keep you in my heart and imagine I sing for you. I urgently beg for you: Go home.

Be safe my friend.

Hope I sing for you soon.

C.S. Taylor

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