Is it just luck?

So tonight, after cooking some mighty fine meals in the past few weeks, if I do say so myself, I have nothing planned for dinner. After discussion of our options, Ken and I decide to grab a bite to eat at one of our favorite restaurants.

It was early when we got to The Roadhouse, the diners hadn’t started coming in yet. We sat at the bar to have a couple beers before dinner. The atmosphere was so relaxing. There was another couple across from us at the oval shaped bar, and two ladies having the “bar burgers” down a few stools from them.

The seats at the bar began to fill in with a quiet crowd. I sipped an iced cold beer, my feet tucked back against the leg of the wooden barstool, elbows resting on the edge of the glossy wooden bar that shone in the lights. The perimeter above the bar was lined with wooden racks holding shiny clear glasses hanging by their stems, to be used for more elaborate drinks.

The female bartender didn’t waste a motion. She took food orders, filled glasses with beer, bussed dishes from behind the bar, and kept the waitresses supplied with their drink orders, then rang their tickets at the cash register. She moved with a fluid motion, non-stop.

Two men, probably in their 50s or 60s sat at the end of the bar. They looked casual, as if they came from their job, maybe contracting or something with the shale boom around here. Relaxation was written all over them as well as they enjoyed their dinner at the bar.

Sitting there, the ambiance was exactly what we needed. It was conducive to our moods and our conversation was carried along without a hitch. We covered lots of topics from work, finances, and dreams ahead of us. We reminisced about family members now gone and things they said or did. We were reminded of things we did with them, how they reacted to situations, and we laughed over past events. We joked about things our grandsons said or did. We reflected on how happy we are but more than that, how lucky we are.

Why, we asked ourselves, are we so lucky? Who decides which ones get to be lucky? We have enjoyed a happy life, loved each other for so many years, have great children and grandsons, great family, have always had jobs, albeit not always the ones we wanted. We were always provided for, had enough, sometimes just barely, but still enough to get by. Our bills get paid, there’s a roof over our heads, clothes on our back, and food to eat. And nights like tonight where we can go out for a beer and dinner. We didn’t spend much, yet it seemed well worth it. We left feeling relaxed, happy, and full.

This luck thing though has us puzzled. Oftentimes we reflect on it. We aren’t extremely intelligent, have no special or great abilities, and consider ourselves “average Joes.” Middle of the road kind of people is what we are. Why is it then that we have such good luck?

Are we luckier than other people? Do things come our way more so than they do for others? Is there some special reason why we feel so lucky?

I don’t have the answers to those questions. One thought might be that maybe we are just thankful for what we have and truly appreciate it. Maybe we are no luckier than anyone else. But really, I think we are.