What makes a person lucky? Is it true that people make their own luck? What separates the runner who lost a leg from the one who finished the Boston Marathon 60 seconds before? Why does one family lose a son, have a terribly injured daughter and mother while the family standing next to them hurried back to their hotel, sat on their beds, watching the news, shaking, crying, and holding each other all night?
Luck isn’t deserved or earned, so that makes it foreign to us.
I swam in a pool under palm trees today and I thought, ‘what have I done to deserve this?’ Why am I so lucky?
Oh, my husband reminded me, ‘we’ve had our share of trouble.’
We’ve never had trouble like the families in Boston.
We’ve never been so hurt or damaged. So devastated.
Maybe because we’ve always had each other. That’s the luck. That’s all the luck.