Family of Me

by Daphne
Updates Mondays and Fridays

Scene 22: Flower Crowns

(Lark is wandering through memories on her own, contemplating her life. As she’s walking across a field, she sees a few tables set up in the distance with refreshments and other things set up on them. As she approaches she notices Libra at one of the tables.)

Lark (20s me): Oh, I didn’t realize anyone else was around here. What are you up to?

Libra (College me): Making a flower crown! Look!

(Libra turns around, showing off a small crown with white flowers threaded throughout and a couple of orange ribbons tied to the back. Lark notices that the table Libra is standing at has an assortment of flowers and other craft paraphernalia scattered across it.)

Libra: It still needs a few finishing touches — A couple more flowers and another ribbon or two, I think.

Lark: What… Did you put all this together?

Libra: Oh no, this is one of Mom’s memories… A children’s party she attended a while after she transitioned. She thought I might like this, and it turns out, I do! Want to make one too?

Lark (hesitant): Oh! Uh… I don’t know if it’s really my kind of thing…

Libra: Nonsense! I might not be your age yet, but I can’t imagine growing up to hate crafts.

Lark: I… Okay, you’re right. I do like crafts. How does this work?

(Libra hands Lark a bare crown.)

Libra: You start with this! Here are all the flowers, so you choose a flower that you want to add, and here are scissors for you to cut them to the proper length, and you attach them to the crown like so.

(Libra demonstrates as she adds the last flower to her own crown. Smiling, she sets it on top of her head, ribbons tumbling down her hair.)

Libra: And then there are ribbons and some other things that I’m sure you can figure out on your own.

Lark: Um, okay. I’ll give it a try.

(Libra steps away from the table and Lark takes her place. As Lark begins to work, I approach the tables from afar.)

Mom (Present me): How’s it going, Libra?

Libra: Oh, hi Mom! Look, I finished it!

Mom (smiling): I see! You look lovely, dearest.

Libra (grinning): Thanks Mom!

Mom: I see Lark found her way here.

Libra: Yeah, she just stopped by. I’m kind of surprised she hasn’t overheard us, honestly.

Mom: Oh, don’t be. She’s really focused right now, see?

(Libra and I watch Lark for a bit as she snips flowers and adds them to her crown. Her eyes are bright with possibility, and her hands move with grace and precision.)

Libra: Oh wow! Is she…

Mom: She doesn’t quite feel like a girl. But she feels safe right now, so she’s let her emotional armor slip off — her true self is shining through a bit.

Libra (whispering): Maybe we should keep it down so we don’t interrupt her then?

Mom: No need. Here inside my mind, shutting out distractions is an automatic thing. She’s focused on making that crown, so she won’t notice us unless we deliberately try and get her attention, no matter how loud we get.

Libra: Do you think she might finally hatch from this?

Mom: Oh, almost certainly not. Hatching isn’t really a single event though. Sure, there can be a particular catalyst that finally cracks your egg, but all of the little sparks of euphoria along the way are important too. It’s like a little bird pecking at their shell, and every bit of euphoria makes their beak a little bit stronger. Eventually the force of all those sparks together gives the bird enough strength to pierce through their egg.

(Just as I finish my explanation, Lark holds up her crown to inspect it. It looks lovely, with a variety of pink and white flowers in front and yellow ribbons tied to the back.)

Lark (proudly): Hah! Finished!

(Lark turns around quickly to show Libra her hard work.)

Lark: Here, Libra! I… Oh!

Mom: Hello Lark. Your crown looks lovely.

Lark (embarrassed): It… Uh… It’s not mine really! It’s just a craft project, Libra showed me how. I… I made it for you, Mom. Here, take it.

(Lark pushes the crown into my hands and hurries away without another word.)

Libra: She did *not* make that crown for you.

Mom (smiling): Hah, no she didn’t. All the same, I don’t think she intended to wear it either… I’ll hold onto it for her.