The Glass Butterfly

It dangled by the thinnest thread of gold. Its intricate wings of bright blue and green stained-glass threw colors upon the needles of the tree. The opaque butterfly was suspended in mid-flight, its beauty forever frozen. She reached out as if to touch its delicate wings but ran into a different sort of glass, the store’s display window. Such a thin physical barrier, but still enough to keep Jamie separated from the glittering ornaments that hung from the Christmas tree. Enough to separate her from her past. Unable to hold on, Jamie’s fingertips left smudges as they slid off the glass.

It’s better this way, she thought, not to look at the glass figurine too closely. Maybe then she wouldn’t be reminded of all that she lost ten years ago. Memories were already surging right beneath the surface, threatening to bring her under, just as they did this time every year. There were the good ones of course, but they were overshadowed by the heart shattering parts of her past. A decade should be enough time to change anyone, certainly enough time for her. Not enough for everyone though, she supposed, some were still stuck in their ways. Every time she visited her sister, she secretly hoped that something had changed, but it never did. A big part of Jamie knew nothing ever would.

She looked at that blue butterfly in the window — so similar to the one she had been given — that she was reminded of the person she used to be. It felt like an eternity ago; it was a lifetime ago. Everything had changed for Jamie. She was no longer a scared and defenseless caterpillar; she had sprouted her wings and learned to fly on her own. But now, Jamie was stuck staring at that blue butterfly, suspended in time just as she was, and she was thinking about them.

Her parents.

The last time she had seen them was just a little under a decade ago. There were days and months that went by without a thought of them, but from time to time they emerged from that tiny room that she had forced their harsh words into. Jamie could not help but wonder if they thought of her too. If they ever felt any regret or if they simply erased her from their minds just as they had erased her from their house. She hadn’t expected anything less after their reaction, but it had still hurt to hear. Afterwards, Jamie had asked her sister, Leslie, for the truth, if they had meant all that they said. Jamie would always choose the truth over a lie, no matter how much it hurt. She had learned over her thirty years that the truth was brutal yet vital. The truth did not allow you to hide inside a cocoon.

The truth may have shattered her butterfly, but she was still here. Stronger than ever. More unapologetically herself than ever. If someone did not want to accept her truth, she was no longer going to hide it for them. With that in mind, she went to take a step back – to back away from her dead past– when she collided into someone. Immediately Jamie reached out to steady the smaller woman who was carrying an armful of shopping bags. Setting her back on two feet, Jamie began to profusely apologize.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

The woman brushed away the silver hair that had fallen into her face and waved away her concern, “It’s alright, dear—”

Jamie didn’t hear the rest of her words, saw the woman’s familiar lips moving, but the words refused to compute. Jamie was once again stuck, caught on the fact that she knew those light brown eyes that were so like her own. Jamie had never seen so many lines upon the woman’s face or gray strands in her hair. She was shorter than Jamie remembered. Jamie saw her past in this woman’s eyes; saw what her future self might look like in that face.

She fought against the apology that once again rose to her lips. She would not ask for forgiveness again, especially not when she no longer meant nearly bowling the woman over. What happened a decade ago was not her fault, it had taken her years to believe that. 

Jamie held her breath as she waited for the woman to recognize who stood before her. Although Jamie and her parents only lived an hour apart from one another — Jamie now in the city and her parents still in their traditional suburban home — they had not had a glimpse of one another in a decade. Sure, Jamie had changed more than the average person over the years; she too had more lines on her face and grays in her hair, but her voice, her body, her presence, and — to an extent — her name was different. But surely a mother would always be able to recognize that her child stood right in front of her. Her mother would recognize it in Jamie’s eyes, those same light brown eyes. Jamie stood frozen in time as her mother’s words died on her lips and her eyes fixated on something over Jamie’s shoulder rather than dare look at the child that she threw out into the street. The woman walked around her. Instead of leaving without a backwards glance, she went to stand in front of the storefront window and dropped her shopping bags.

“Jamie,” her mother whispered, placing her hand in the exact spot as Jamie’s palm was only minutes before.  

“Excuse me?” Jamie asked in disbelief.

Had she truly recognized Jamie or was this Jamie’s mind playing tricks on her. Jamie didn’t understand why her mother would stay now when she had turned away all those years before. 

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Her mother turned back towards her. “I just – I saw that little glass ornament and it reminded me of someone.”

It’s nothing. There was no recognition in her mother’s eyes. Her Jamie stood right in front of her, but it was as if she was speaking to a stranger. Her mother probably didn’t even know that her former child lived in the city, Jamie realized, if she had she would have avoided the area like the plague.

“Who? Who did it remind you of?”

Jamie should walk away. Jamie should turn around and run back to her cozy apartment, to her family that loved her. She should go and try to forget that this encounter had ever happened. She tried to shut the old memories off, but her mind wouldn’t let it go. Oh, how she tried to take a step, but her feet seemed to be glued to the concrete sidewalk as the woman began to speak.

“My eldest, Jamie. We both loved the colors of the stained glass, liked how the light reflected onto our tree.” There was fondness still in her tone.

It was true, Jamie had loved all the Christmas decorations, but the stained-glass ornaments especially. She would come down the stairs early on Christmas morning and try to guess what glass ornament she would receive in her stocking. Jamie had always had an affinity for pretty things, but she tried to keep it hidden away. She always knew her dad would never allow her to be gifted something feminine like a flower or a bird, but she would always hope. And that last Christmas she thought all her hope had panned out. She hadn’t gotten another bear or moose that year, but a bright blue and green butterfly. Jamie had never gotten a more beautiful present. She saw it as more than a gorgeous butterfly; she had thought that her parents were finally accepting her. She should’ve known.

As much as Jamie tried – whether it was bonding through playing catch in the front yard or going on camping trips together – she could never be the son her father had wished for. There had been something missing. She was no son at all.

The butterfly had been a mistake.

It was meant for her sister, the campfire ornament for Jamie. She still remembered admiring its delicate wings as she held it in her hand, right before her father seized it. 

She had been twenty, no longer a child, but still so dependent upon them. They had seen her grow out her hair, wear her baggy pants and sweatshirts to cover up her body, but they thought if they ignored it then maybe her oddness would go away. She had tried, but never said the words out loud to them until that day. 

“I’m trans.”

Her mother’s face had gone blank whereas her father’s had done the opposite. Tears had welled in her eyes as he shouted, “Queers are not welcome in my house.” 

Leslie was the only one who cried and hugged her as she left. Her sister was the only one Jamie had seen since. Until now.  

Jamie had been trapped in the memory too long. Her mother had picked up her bags once more to leave. Jamie remembered their Christmas trips together to the city to pick out gifts for Leslie, her father, and their extended family. It was their time to be together before the chaos of the holidays before they were expected to be the perfect American family when the visitors came.

“They’re beautiful.”

It wasn’t what Jamie wanted to say, but if she spoke the truth this opportunity would crash down around her.

“They are. I gave my children one of these ornaments every single year. It was our favorite tradition.”

“You don’t do it anymore?” Jamie pushed.

She remembered how her fingers fumbled for the fragile thing in her father’s hands. She could still feel the glass piercing her fingers, her heart, as she tried to pick up the shattered pieces from the floor.

“Well, you know, traditions die out as children get older and leave the nest.”

Or the traditions get slaughtered as your child is forced out the door, Jamie held back her words. “But don’t they usually come back every now and then?”

“Usually. But my Jamie,” The woman gave her a watery smile. “Well, Jamie never came back. I haven’t heard from Jamie in years.”

“Is there nothing that can be done? An apology?”

“Sometimes time is a bigger bridge than distance.” Didn’t Jamie know it, she stood a foot from her mother, but she might have as well been having a conversation with a stranger.

“Well, despite what happened, I’m sure Jamie misses you.” The woman gave her a small smile at Jamie’s words. “She probably looks at these same ornaments and thinks of you too.”

The smile dropped.

“James is my son.” Her jaw and fist were clenched.

“I’m sorry.”

Jamie wasn’t sorry for using the correct pronouns or giving this conversation a hesitant try. No, she was sorry that this woman would never get to meet the amazing woman Jamie had become. She would only ever know the child that had been hiding in a shell. Jamie was sorry that this woman had so much hate in her heart that it forced out her love. Jamie would never be sorry for the person she had become through all her hardships or the chosen family she had gained because of her past. Through all of it she was thankful for this time with the woman before her. The woman that had been the mother of James, but not of Jamie. She would no longer have to wonder or ask her sister about her parents. She knew. She had the truth. It wasn’t as brutal as she once might have thought. Through her loss, she had come out stronger, more beautiful.

Without a parting word, Jamie began to head back to her apartment. The apartment that she shared with her loving husband, Finn, and their tiny dog. The apartment where she welcomed those she called family with open arms. She never had to be anyone but herself ever again. She went back to her apartment where she made new traditions despite losing her old ones.

Jamie unlocked her apartment door and was immediately encircled by a wiggly brown dog that acted as if she had been gone for centuries, instead of hours. She picked up the little guy and set off towards where her husband stood by their Christmas tree with his back towards her.

“There you are.” He turned his head to smile at her, a smile that she would never get tired of. “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting, I got something for you.”

“It’s not Christmas for three more days.” She said as she put the dog down at their feet.

“Just consider it early then.” Finn pecked her on the cheek as he gave her a small red bag with glittery snowflakes all over. “I didn’t want you to have to wait.”

Jamie raised an eyebrow.

“Open it.” He pushed.

She rolled her eyes, “Fine.”

Jamie plucked out the white tissue paper, unveiling the last thing she expected.

“Finn,” She whispered, “You remembered.”

“Of course. Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

She held up the intricate glass ornament which spun on its thin string, throwing colors across her hands. It was just like the one she had seen earlier, but instead of bright blue and green glass its wings were composed of all the colors in the rainbow. Jamie shouldn’t have been surprised that Finn remembered; he was the best person she had ever met. They had been friends for years before they started dating. She still couldn’t believe that she got to see that smile every day for the past seven years. That she would see it for the rest of her life.

Jamie once thought that her glass butterfly was the most beautiful thing she had seen in the world. But that wasn’t true anymore. Finn was. Finn and their life together, with their dog, and their family, and their traditions. Nothing would ever beat that.

Jamie held the thin gold ribbon between her fingers as she went to put the butterfly up on the needles of the tree. She took a step back into Finn’s warm body after it was placed. She didn’t look at the ornament reflecting its spectrum of light onto the tree. Instead, she looked at their life. At all the ornaments they had accumulated over the years that represented their life together. It was a mix match of glittering candy canes, glass balls, kids’ crafts from Leslie’s children, and everything in between. It was a life that she was proud to display, proud to have created. She had lost a lot in her thirty years, but she had gained much more. More than she ever thought possible.

The glass butterfly had come out of its chrysalis more beautiful than ever and was finally ready to fly. 

About the Author

Sydney Howse is a junior majoring in English with a concentration in Creative Writing and minoring in History. She loves fantasy novels, especially anything with dragons in it, but can also be found reading and writing some other things too. She grew up in Texas, but does not consider herself a Texan by any means.