But First, A Crown

Part II

What do you stand for? 

Close your eyes for a moment. Think about it deeply, way deep inside. Eleven-year old Koa answered this question for a school assignment simply, but firmly. She responded with one word, and a quite intentional period. What do you stand for? 

“Love.”

I stand for love. On November 21, 2019, several hundred people did just that. They stood, with Koa, for love. They oozed and emanated love, lining the hallways and spilling from walkways, filling all the nooks and crannies of the Children’s Hospital at Bronson, silently bordering the path from Koa’s room in the pediatric intensive care unit to an operating room where her life support would be removed and, ultimately, as would organs for donation. 

An honor walk is a ceremony held in a hospital to pay respect and express gratitude to a patient who has chosen to donate their organs. While we’d never talked about this with Koa, it was the ways of being she chose to pursue in the world when she turned 13 that convinced us — her mamá, her dad, and her big sister Zaria — that Koa wanted for her own life to offer a chance at new life for others. Thus, Free, Play, Joy, as Zaria pointed out, became Koa’s living will. 

Because of the number of people expected for the Honor Walk, the staff at Bronson and Donate Life, the organ donor organization, were planning to extend the typical route, which prompted a tour for Koa’s (aunt) Tia Ana to preview what would happen during the procession. She returned from the expedition eager to share with us and Koa — who never shied from an audience, quite the contrary — that the walk involved a grand entrance with double doors automatically opening to reveal hundreds of people waiting there to usher her onward. 

We’d been readying Koa since dawn for that walk, and for what this day held for her after. Over a dozen women and Dean, her dad, came together to wash her, sing to her, chant and pray over her, all the while perfuming her body with oils that had been used for just this purpose when my mom and my dad passed. I’d say we’d been readying ourselves, too, but that was impossible, really. Even today, many parts of our story feel impossible — filled with healing synchronicity and love, and undeniable and unbelievable gratitude, yes, and unbearable impossibility, too. 

It was time. But how could we convince our bodies to move toward the door of her room, to escort Koa to this Honor Walk grand entrance, to push the bed… And a family friend appeared, carrying a beautifully adorned basket.

“Wait!” she said. “We have a crown.”

The day before, Alexandra, or “Koa’s friend Alex” as she remains in our contacts, was spending time in the room with Koa, chatting with Zaria and the nurses so lovingly attending. Talk of artistry and whim led to her divulging a Pinterest board she filled with images of crowns. She had been wanting to make one. “You should,” said a nurse, “It’d be cool if you could give it to Koa.” Everyone smiled, the dialogue meandered, and soon enough any talk of crowns forgotten. 

Not for this friend, and two more, who would lovingly craft a crown for Koa to wear on the last day of her life in this place. Alex found her way to a local craft store where she immersed herself in a lengthy and exploratory design session, on the floor in the aisle, amongst the full expanse of creative options. The three friends then joined together, in a deeply sacred space offered by one of the moms, where they could collaborate in ways most fitting for each. Alex, the visionary of the crew, directed another, who was eager to use their hands to make beautiful things, and the third, with a voice that sang songs with Koa that they’d written together, accompanied and fueled all the love and effort and emotion by filling the air with song. 

These three young humans, coming together in their suffering, their disorientation, and above all their love; coming together in their creating and communing through the night… This image lives in its very own place within my heart, a picture so delicate, so beautiful, so full, that I draw upon it often, and never without awe.

With wonder we lifted this crown, this treasure, and we reverently placed it upon Koa’s head and amidst her very long hair, extra wavy and buoyant from the braids her sister lovingly plaited the day before, utterly gorgeous, chestnut and daffodil and gold in color, shining metal and flowing stream. And so it came to be that as those doors opened, and we moved through an ocean of faces, an ocean of pained and loving, shocked and tender, resolute and raw, grieving and united faces and hearts, perched atop Koa was perhaps the most magnificent crown ever worn, alive with spires of fire and pretties and tears and love.

Just a year earlier, Koa created her “Create Crown” as part of a rite-of-passage when she turned 13. It was a powerful act of identity and personal crowning, born out of time in deep reflection via introspection, creativity, and play. She wore that crown, literally and figuratively, on her own. By contrast, this was a communal crowning, born out of one friend’s imagination, nourished by the hands and voice of two more friends, and infused with the heartsong of every single person in that Honor Walk on the one and only day Koa ever physically wore it. Months later, a friend who had been there remarked, “I have never in my life felt so much love in one place. Never. It was truly palpable.” 

This crown, this treasure, takes its place alongside us on this journey of acceptance and gratitude. We know it simply as “Koa’s Crown” and it holds a sacred space in our home and hearts and story. 

Every year on the 21st of November, we take Koa’s Crown into the woods, and we remember. The trees line our path as we remember the hundreds who stood for love at the Honor Walk. We remember Free, Play, Joy as we collect treasures from the land, take turns swinging the basket with the crown, and marvel at the majesty of this great earth mother, and of life itself. And as we pack up the natural gifts harvested to become a new crown for Koa, and for us, we remember three friends who stood for love, creating beauty through the darkness. 

We remember to stand for love. We remember to crown ourselves in love.