For a long time, I’d thought I was pretty damn lucky. My mom used to say all the time how lucky she was, for everything. Every occasion. Even when things went wrong. She saw the best in everything. A flat tire? Maybe we would have gotten into an accident if we hadn’t stopped. Someone stole her wallet? They needed the money more, and at least she had a job and could make more! The highs with her had always been so high. Now, more often than not—and especially when I felt down—I felt more like I was cursed. Or maybe my mom had taken all my luck with her.
