I can't say that my luck is generally bad. That's a totally different animal. Daryl Strawberry is a guy with bad luck. Or maybe just bad karma. And a bad drug problem. Shannon Doherty has bad luck. Tonya Harding. Bad luck. The Kennedy men. Big money, blonde women, but bad luck.
My luck, in fact, is not bad. If anything, I'd say my luck is generally good.
I tend to find quite excellent parking spaces without having to wait. Often the driver exiting the space even waves and smiles while pulling out.
And I usually find extra change in the bottom of my bag when I need it. Real change. Not just old pennies. And it's rare that I have a pimple on the day of an important occasion.
Yes. Generally, I would say my luck is good.
Now it's true, I was born into a shorter body than I'd prefer. And it's true, I don't have any sisters to share clothes with. But, at least I'm proportional. Short but proportional. And at least I have two pretty decent brothers. Proportionally decent.
So, maybe that's not really bad luck. I'll say that what could have been unlucky turned out to be lucky.
When I was younger, I got a little paperback book called "What Good Luck! What Bad Luck!" from the Scholastic book club. Once a month or so, at the end of the schoolday, our teacher would bring out the big cardboard box filled with the paperbacks our parents had allowed us to order. One by one, she would call out the names of the students and the book or books that had arrived for them. I was lucky. My parents always gave me money for at least two books. Sometimes three.
This particular book was about a little boy. Lots of things happened to the boy.
He went on a plane ride. What good luck! But oh no! The plane caught fire. What bad luck! But there was a parachute. What good luck! But oh no! There was a hole in the parachute. What bad luck! Luckily he fell on a haystack. Whew. What good luck! But there was a pitchfork in the haystack. What bad luck! But he missed the pitchfork! What good luck! But he also missed the haystack. What bad luck! And so on.
My mom and I used to read that book all the time. We both liked it.
Now that I'm much older and not much wiser, I understand better why we liked that book. My mother had taught me the concept of good luck before I even got that book.
Unfortunately, when it comes to my mom, my luck is really bad.
My mom's birthday is right after Mother's Day. Even though Mother's Day is a Hallmark day of commercialism, and even though my mom swears she doesn't care about birthdays, I still have to be nice to her twice within a very short period of time.
And I mean really nice.
You see, my mom knows that I know how to write. So I can't just buy a card and write "Love d"...that's not cool.
No. I have to put together some meaningful sentiments.
Twice.
Within a very short period of time.
Tried it lately?
It's not that my mom's not great. She is.
It's just that I kind of give it my all on Mother's Day.
By Mother's Day each year, my mom and I have generally been through a pretty good number of things. Between her job, my job, her friends, my friends, her family - which happens to be my family - there's more than enough to really get us going and keep us going. That makes it easy for me to arrive at some relevant theme for her Mother's Day card.
Being a decent writer and a kiss butt daughter, I usually try to balance her favorite elements in a poetic tribute. Her preferences are - in no particular order - something deep, something psychological, something emotional and something reminiscent.
This year was simple. It was a year filled with dramatic change. And sure enough, my mom was supportive, to say the very least.
My mom was a really good friend. She was a confidante. She was a buddy. She was a pal. She was good for extended bouts of giggling, crying, yapping and snarling. She was especially good at listening to me say nothing.
My mom comforted me with shared coffee and french fries. She motivated me with hair color and self-help books. She encouraged me by just encouraging me.
My mom was great.
And Mother's Day was easy. I was truly thankful. And saying so in writing was a cinch.
So now it's her birthday and I'm screwed once again. Another year of having to come up with something nice to say right after I said a whole lot of really meaningful nice things that I truly deeply felt and continue to feel.
And the problem is that between Mother's Day and now, all we've done is the usual...we've had lots of gabbing, lots of wine, lots of food, lots of hugs, lots of phone calls, laughing, crying...the usual.
That's nothing to write home about.
What bad luck.
But you know what?
She always provides me with some useful material.
This past week was really difficult. Just a lot of crazy stuff going on. A little bit of everything and, unfortunately, all at once.
And my mom - being the A+ fixer she is - tried everything and anything to help me get through it.
"I'll come over for lunch. I'll meet you anywhere you want. You have to eat."
"You'll have plenty of time to rest over the weekend."
I swear, she was working overtime to help me make it through to Friday.
But honestly, it was just simply a really hard week.
What bad luck.
Throughout the week, though, I thanked my mom for her attempts to lighten my load.
But it wasn't until very late on Friday night that I realized how much lighter my load in life really is because of her.
A very difficult week ended with me traveling out to Sterling on Friday night to retrieve my car from the towing lot.
Why did the car get towed?
It's a long story.
Actually, it's a short and stupid story.
Anyway, in the rain, I journeyed the thirty miles from Reston to Sterling after work.
At least it wasn't pouring rain.
So, the car got towed. What bad luck. But at least I was able to go get it without disrupting my weekday work schedule. What good luck!! The car, which hadn't been driven in eight months, had to be left running for twenty minutes before it could be brought out from the tow lot. What bad luck. But at least it only took ten minutes for the tow guys to get it started! What good luck!! The car had two flat tires. What bad luck. But the tow guys found an air tank! What good luck!! But the darn hose wouldn't reach from the tank to the car. What bad luck...and so on and so on for an hour and a half. In the rain.
The bottom line is that the car is now safely home. It's running fine and the tires are fat and round.
And Friday night was a fine night.
Because my mom taught me a long time ago - before the book arrived - that there's always some good luck in there. You just need to find it.
It was really good luck that I got out of that tow lot alive.
It's even better luck that my shoes didn't get ruined given the fine decor of mud and stones covering the tow lot and surrounding areas.
And I'm sure the tow guys thought they were pretty lucky when I slipped them beer money in exchange for their hospitality.
As for my mom, hopefully she'll settle for a birthday card that just says "I'm lucky to feel lucky...."