Luck

Trying to explain what St. Patrick’s Day is all about to my three-year-old left us both more than a little confused. I have clearly failed in my parental duty to read lots of fables and fantasy stories to him, because he had no idea what a leprechaun was, though rainbow and gold were perfectly clear. Neither is botany my strong suit, since shamrock and clover were totally lost on him.

History? Religion? Geography? No, no, and no. Who is Saint Patrick? What is a saint? Where is Ireland? He knew none of this, nor did he much care. Had I thrown in anything about skittles candy or chocolate coins like some people do to celebrate, he’d have been ALL IN.

In any case, I decided to tell him that it was also a day to celebrate spring. Seemed clear enough.

My point was visibly shaken when it started to SNOW outside this morning.

Oh well.

So now, sitting in blissful silence with the boys in bed and most of the chores done, I am thinking about it again. And deciding that maybe St. Patrick’s Day should be when I pause and think about just how freaking lucky I am.

There is so much in my life that I can take credit for. My two college degrees, choosing a wonderful husband, creating this little corner of the blogosphere. But honestly, almost every gift I have in this world came to me through luck.

My mother deserves credit for the happy childhood I had. For me? Just luck.

The loving family, the two older siblings without whom my world is incomplete? More luck.

The talent in school that opened doors and gave me opportunities? Luck again.

Being born in a free country to a middle-class family with a skin color that gave me innumerable privileges? Invisible luck.

I could go on and on.

And then of course, there are these two:

my pots of gold at the end of the rainbow

It’s not that I haven’t given nearly all of myself to them for the past four years. I do like a gold star now and then for what I do under the title of Mama.

But don’t we all know, somewhere deep in our terrified souls, that it is really only luck that they are ours? That they are healthy and beautiful and clever and filled with souls as bright as any rainbow?

So that’s what I’m celebrating today on St. Patrick’s Day. My amazingly crazy good luck.

It was a shivery day filled with laundry and errands and meal-making and crumb-sweeping like any other.

But my life? Is golden.