Lucky Me

Like many people, at this time of year, we contemplate our lives, and try to discern a deeper meaning for why we are here on this Earth, what is our purpose? That has never been more true than this year, after 18 months of pounding economic problems in our country and in the world, to really take stock and think through what matters.

For years I have spent time thinking, believing that I was unlucky, that G-d did not believe me worthy of luck. Why? Because I was not one of the "beautiful" people? It is not that I am not beautiful, I am, just not in a classic way (as my husband tells me). Lucky? I have looked at other people’s luck – judging my insides by their outsides. I don’t know their stories, their individual or family traumas, heartaches, and heartbreaks. I just know that they seem luckier than me. Maybe they had a nicer car, or nicer house or nicer clothes. Maybe they seemed to have a better job, or get promoted ahead of me. Maybe their success seemed to come easy, while I worked harder but achieved less? But what does it all really mean? Do all those externals mean that I am unlucky? After years of observing the world, and being a student of human nature, I would say no.

So here is my lucky list:

I have a beautiful home (when so many have nothing).

I have food on the table (when so many are starving or afraid of going hungry).

I have clothes in the closet (when so many have nothing).

I have electricity and water and a telephone (when so many right now have nothing).

I have a healthy, intelligent son (when others have children who are sick or disabled).

I have an opportunity for self-employment (when so many do not have that chance).

I have a good marriage on the second-try (when some people never find their soul-mate).

I have had the opportunity to travel (when so many merely dream).

I have been reasonably healthy (when so many are ill and my best friend died after suffering with serious chronic illness for 20 years).

I have had the opportunity to help others through my profession.

Like everyone, I grew up in a dysfunctional(i.e. normal) home, but I was lucky because it was one that gave me many opportunities because of my father's hard work:

There was always food,

There was always a roof over our heads.

I went to good public schools.

I lived in a safe community.

I was given religious education (even though my parents were irreligious).

I was given the opportunity to attend a wonderful, challenging university.

My parents helped me financially at different times in my life.

Until one year ago, my parents were healthy.

My siblings were all healthy.

So, maybe it all comes down to that old expression, “there but for the grace of G-d go I” is still so true. There are so many less fortunate than me, I cannot and do not feel sorry for myself. I finally understand that I am, really, truly, lucky.