Letter to You | July 2025

Hi there, I hope this finds you well.

I learned a new word this month: Summerween. I hadn’t realized Halloween was that popular. But really, why am I surprised? You get to dress up and eat candy. What’s not to love? I unknowingly participated in Summerween when I took a cemetery tour. I got lucky. The evening was surprisingly cool and pleasant. Our guide was both knowledgeable and funny, and the most memorable tombstone was probably the one with a hollow bear on it. Fireflies danced around us, adding extra magic to the night.

I also visited the Stettheimer Dollhouse exhibit. It was delightful. I kept circling back to admire all the intricate details and always noticed something new. I’ve never owned a dollhouse, but I have this idea of installing a miniature one on my living room wall when I have my own place. How fun would it be to decorate the tiny house to match the real room?

Back in 2018, I read the Chinese version of The Cloud Collector’s Handbook (云彩收集者手册) right after it came out, and it was one of my favorite books of the year, because I love clouds. I finally took some cloudspotting courses recently and started reading more about it again. It brings me so much joy to say things like, “Oh, look at that cumulus.” I realized I missed the chance to see the Cloud Harp in action, but I found a video online. It’s just the coolest thing.

I also read Yiyun Li’s essay in The New Yorker about losing her two sons. It was poetic and heartbreaking. Then I realized I’d bought one of her books a while ago but never read it. I finished Where Reasons End in just a few days. Her writing is just as beautiful in the book. The pain of loss seeps through every page.

Only in an O. Henry story does the last leaf take on an existential significance. Only in an O. Henry story does everything come with a poetic and tragic twist. The truth is, leaves are always falling. After a while they all look the same, the ones shuddering in the wind and the ones hurled around before they are cleaned up by blowers and mowers.

There are seven or six universal emotions, depending on who you ask. Grief isn’t one of them. Sadness is. But grief is so much more complex. I remember my mom quietly saying, “I don’t have a mom anymore,” after my grandma passed. I think about losing my mom sometimes. I wonder how I’ll handle it. I like to think that imagining it might help me prepare, but I know it probably won’t. Nothing will.

To love is to trespass. To live, too.

We’ll probably never know which firefly is the last one we’ll see this season, just like we never know which falling leaf will be the final one. Let’s treasure each little light we catch.

Yours truly :)