When I was a young teen, my sister Roz worked for an insurance firm. One day she brought home a handful of promotional cards the company had started giving out. On one side was a calendar; on the other a four leaf clover. The clovers were real, embedded in the laminate. They were all different – some small, some large, some bent – but real. I’ve never forgotten them, and no doubt have one tucked away somewhere.
My mother told me when she grew up in England there was a patch in their yard that grew only four leaf clovers. As I was still drinking in this idea of permanent good luck, she continued to tell me that after their dog had a poop there, they never grew again. I’ll never know if she was pulling my leg or not; it was just plausible enough for a child to believe. Some adults pull coins from kid’s ears, but my mother fed my imagination with embroidered words.
In elementary school, I used to play the outfield – way outfield – in baseball. This is no surprise, as my athletic prowess is well documented elsewhere. I would plunk myself down in the midst of huge swathes of clovers, and begin my hunt for the elusive four leafed talisman that would determine my future. I’d spend recesses and lunch hours at the task, positive that if you search for something hard enough you would have to find it; you deserved to find it.
I grew up and found that wasn’t true, of course.
The clutches of clovers I later had on those cards were like a captured surge. I was drunk with wishes, and wasted them on all the things a teenage girl should have wasted them on. I wished for a date, I wished my parents would stop fighting, I wished for Sassoon jeans, I wished for my hair to go right, I wished for party invitations, I wished for good marks.
I’m not sure when the realization that you can have too much of a good thing, even just in the hoping, finally dawned on me, but it did. I went back to hunting for stars and fireflies, for comets to pierce the northern sky as we stared into the night, the bonfire roasting our faces as our backsides grew chilly. Good luck should be rare if it’s to feel like luck at all.
I wanted omens, I wanted promises, I wanted reassurances that all would be good. I gradually swapped out designer label desires for career requests, and those fell to the side as I began to futilely beg for those I loved to stay healthy. In the midst of a two year stretch of bad news followed by worse, I finally realized I wasn’t being punished for not wishing or praying hard enough: no birthday candles, wishbones or dandelions gone to seed are going to avert the course a life must take.
I still remember the day I looked my father in the eye and told him the only belief I could hold that could possibly make a difference was in me. This man I adored, raised in the church yet long gone from it, held my stare for a agonizing moment, then nodded his agreement. I am neither that strong nor that special; it’s only that I’m responsible for this fate I kept being so eager to hand off to coins in fountains and aligning planets.
Do I still double-check the North Star or peek at a horoscope? Sure. But beyond reflexively wishing for my children’s safety, it’s all up to me.
Lorraine
My God, so fatalistic woman. As someone who lost a parent and a partner in the last two years I can relate. However, my family and close friends have surrounded me with concern and love. Without them I’d be installing a diving board on the roof.
As humans,we are not meant to be alone, although it can sure seem that way sometimes. You are strong, and special. As a single mom, you are one of my heroes.
I would like my sister to read this. I’m someone’s hero!
All kidding aside…I just finally figured out, after 3 years of total hell many years ago, that it was up to me. It was a good lesson.
The “light bulb” moment of realization that we are all ultimately more responsible for our own lives, than a racetrack’s worth of horseshoes, or a hand full of falling stars, was simultaneously liberating and demoralizing. I was the true and sole master of my destiny, and finally had no one to blame but myself.
The only issue with the idea that we are the sole architects of our fortunes in life is that, by extension, we must be the sole architects of our misfortunes as well.
Which is all nice and fine, until one gets blind-sided by something in life that one could never possibly foresee or control. How can anyone reasonably argue that someone has ‘worked hard’ for their misfortunes?
Some people, no matter how honourable, fall on their faces spectacularly when they try to take a step forward, while others seem to be able to by-pass every pitfall (even ones they have created), usually by stepping on the prone bodies of their fellow (fallen) beings. It’s a common attitude that’s tossed around by the ‘I’ve got mine’ crowd these days to justify any of their actions, no matter how unconscionable.
I’m willing to concede that we only get what we deserve in life, but that would include the good along with the bad. It’s just pretty cold medicine to swallow that when hardship or tragedy walks into our lives, we have only ourselves to blame.
I’ve had plenty of cold medicine, Zena. I realize we all have. I just know I finally couldn’t sit around wishing it would be better.
I’ve also learned that for every person I think is getting a get- out- of- jail- free card kind of life, there is always a balance in there. Nobody gets out alive.
The only person who can ultimately change me, is me. I watch people clutch lottery tickets (apparently, seriously, winning the lottery has factored in something like 25% of Canadians retirement plans. Link somewhere if I can find it tomorrow), and think, ‘way to hand over the power’.
And actually, I never wrote about blaming ourselves. That’s what I meant by realizing I wasn’t being punished when bad things happened. Only about using our own abilities to power through. Big difference.
” If your retirement plans include winning a lottery , you just might be a red neck . Jeff Foxworthy . “
As my Dad used to say,” You only have a slightly better chance of winning the lottery if you buy a ticket, than if you don’t buy one.”
Which sister? You were always my hero. I still hear your voice telling me what to do!
And that’s a good thing. Everybody needs a big sister….lucky for you, I’m yours!
Yeh yeh. You’re my hero too.
I do agree that if you want to change your life, you have to be the one to work to make it happen, and it may not always go the way you intended. All we can control is how we react to those things and the actions we take as a result of them. We can not control how other people act or feel.
What I do firmly believe in is that every joy is increased and every burden is reduced when we have people in our lives that we can share those things with.
“And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.” – Lennon–McCartney
Bad things happen when good people do nothing!