I'm Gretchen Rubin and this is a little happier.

A while back, my mother had a milestone birthday, so we had a celebration for her.

Among other things, we had a special family dinner and we each made a toast.

When we were done, my mother stood up to respond.

Of what everyone said that night, there's only one part I remember clearly.

And that was what she first said when she got to her feet.

She said,

I'm lucky, I'm a lucky person.

I don't know why I've been lucky, but I have been.

One reason I remember this was this was something I didn't know about my mother.

I didn't know that she considered herself lucky.

In many ways, you'd say, yes, my mother is indeed lucky.

But of course, she's been unlucky, too.

And what is luck?

The word starts to fall apart in my head as I try to think about it.

Do we make our own luck?

To some degree, yes, but not in every way.

Is it unlucky even to talk about being lucky?

It feels like it is, but I'm not even going to think about that.

But aside from these deeper issues about the nature of luck,

what struck me was how lucky I was to have a mother who considered herself lucky.

Because although she'd never said it before,

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