Sunday, May 28, 2006

the luckiest girl in the world

the french language disables my tongue and retards my senses, but that's not why i'm the luckiest girl in the world. mostly it's because i entertained a keen sense of gratitude when visiting my family this weekend. i thought, 'is there any girl on this planet who is as blessed as i?' not exactly the theme for any post on a blog referenced by the word "debauchery"; google it - i have.

i'm just lucky as hell to have two parents, both of whom care about me. i have two older sisters who would bend over backwards to help me out. and let's not forget my baby brother and sister, respectively. they are awesome. i might not come from a long line of affluence or arresting genes, but my family is well appointed by virtue of their values and ethics, most of which are borne solely from the sweaty lapels of the blue collar. i'm so grateful to have them, my family.

i question myself for being in so inquisitive and insightful a mood, yet i know exactly what instigates this kind of momentary lapse of depth: my upcoming move, which for somebody of my calibre, is akin to stepping over an emotional precipice; i will be ripped from every routine, every habit, and every familiarity i have known for two years. this nerve wracking event is accompanied by a farewell between me and my parents, who live about two hours away at given time. this temporary geographical separation, yet another on the long list of those previously incurred, makes me cling to something my dad would say to us kids whenever we'd get to bickering and fighting: your family is the only thing you'll ever have.

i devoutly believe in his words. if there is such a man with all the worldly possessions any one man can forseably attain, he most assuredly has a lot to lose. all i have is my family and my name and nobody can ever take that away from me. not a bill collector. not a militant. not a soul.

i'm wistful and nostalgic now, and i'm fighting a terrific exhaustion from the evening prior (when i took my wonderfully normal, caring, and loving mom and dad out to the local irish pub). this is how i am lucky, how lucky i am. all too easily, i could not be the recipient of so charmed a life. the very profundity of this possibility astounds me; gives me chills.