Friday, August 07, 2009

Of luck and wishes

When my sister and I were children, she had an invisible friend she called Mr. Ghost. I was so jealous of her friendship with Mr. Ghost. Invisible to me, I also couldn't hear his side of their conversations, but I did not need such proof to believe. I did not doubt for a single minute that he existed, and I searched for him on a regular basis hoping to get a glimpse. I admit that I've caught myself on more than one occasion wondering what ever happened to Mr. Ghost, in the same way you might wonder what happened to the girl or boy who sat behind you in your second grade class. I have not gone so far as to search for Mr. Ghost on Facebook, so there is still some hope for me.

Wondering about Mr. Ghost got me thinking about other things I do that I've carried over from my childhood and teenage years, little rituals I don't recall being without. For instance, I still raise my feet off the car floor whenever I go over a railroad track. I still hold my breath when driving across bridges. To this day, I can never make it all the way across the Galveston causeway bridge.

When in the car with friends, whoever saw the one-eyed car and said "Padiddle" first, won. But I don't know what they won.

Most of these ritueals are based on luck, or trying to avoid bad luck. And then there's the wishing.

I kiss the clasp of my necklace and make a wish when it slips down to the front, before returning it to the back. This started in high school and continues today.

My mother taught me that if one of your own eyelashes falls on your cheek, you're supposed to put it on the tip of your finger, close your eyes, make a wish, and blow the eyelash away. If you open your eyes and the eyelash is gone, your wish will come true.

While I don't truly believe that raising my feet from the floor of the car or holding my breath across a bride will stave off bad luck, there's no harm done is there? Besides, I used to avoid cracks in the sidewalk, all the way up until my mother passed. She never broke her back though, so there you have it.

3 comments:

ghost said...

i'm here. right here. as i have always been.

maxngabbie said...

my mother never broke her back either, so yes, there must be some truth to it :)

ghost said...

hi. i miss you.