Fortune

We are staying at my parents' house for a few days. Chris and I were thrilled for a chance to indulge in our favorite Schezuan food. (Nothing compares to the food you remember from childhood, and how great that this restaurant is still here to make dishes that tastes the same as they did 30 years ago. In a good way.) At the end of the meal we read our fortunes, which were more flattering personality assessments than glimpses of the future. Mine said something positive about my sense of humor and charm. You know, the kind of generic compliment that anyone would read and think "that is SO me!"

This morning I was thinking about fortunes. Not so much about those particular slips of paper, but about the idea that we can tell the future in cookie inserts, or tea leaves, or coffee grounds. (Actually, I believe in the coffee grounds; they always tell me I need a refill.) I can not be alone in looking to things outside myself to predict my future, even as I refuse to believe that there is such a thing as "fate."

The box of medications on my dining room table is a sign, but of what? Will they portend another child, a disappointment, or something else? This feels like a moment of transition. Either the IVF will work, and that will change our lives, or it won't. Our lives will change then too, but more imperceptibly. The shift will be more inside us, more a recognition of the path we are on than a step onto some other road.

My sister's life is also poised to change: she is finishing school and looking for work. At this moment her options are very open. Her choices will clarify over the next couple of months, but until then she and I spend a lot of time talking about our possible futures, our fears and hopes.

I consider my fortune, both the good fortune I have had so far and the unknown future that lays ahead. My hope for my sister and myself, as well as for all of you, is a 2008 filled with joy and happiness. Happy new year; may we all be given the fortune we hope for.