The Powerball lottery frenzy visited my family. My husband bought some tickets and left them on the kitchen counter until the winning numbers were announced. We never play, but the cash payout was close to a gazillion dollars and, well, gazillion piqued our interest. Our chances of winning were significantly less than getting struck by lightning or One Direction reuniting. It was the “Hunger Games” of statistical reality – the odds were not in our favor.
Consequently, we did not speak of our irrational purchase until the day after the drawing. That’s when the fun began.
I made a cup of coffee while Mike checked the morning newspaper for the Powerball winning numbers. Holding the tickets in his hand, he copiously scanned the paper like an IRS auditor. I stayed in the adjoining kitchen, hesitant to ask the outcome. Did we win gazillions or lose a few bucks on some Quick Picks? Either way, I’d need caffeine.
Mike looked up. “Well, we’re not multi-millionaires. Let’s not quit our jobs,” he said with a half-smile. I grabbed his favorite coffee mug, the ceramic one with cute dog paintings that the children gave him years ago. He’d need some strong java.
I sat next to him and grabbed a section of the paper. We read in silence for a few minutes.
“You know what I’d do if I’d have won?” I said with my reading glasses perched on my nose.
And for the next half hour, we shared our spending fantasies. Some were big, others small. But here’s what surprised me — or, once I thought about it, didn’t surprise me at all. We shared the exact same dreams, especially our first investment of choice.
First thing we’d do after providing for our family? Donate to our doctors to advance research in the fields of diabetes and epilepsy. And in a really big way that would make an impact. We’d give enough to help patients and their families better manage their lives. Then we’d give our college-aged children money to contribute to causes that matter to them. Next? Bus stop covers for our community so no one has to wait for a ride in bad weather without shelter.
And on we went, getting more excited by our grand plans. After a few minutes, it dawned on us that we didn’t talk about the obvious purchases one would typically make – buy a home, car, large TV with one flippin’ remote instead of five. The obvious things. Stuff, really. When you get to our age, you are so over the stuff. You’re about the substance. And we both agreed that neither one of us would quit our jobs if we’d have won the lottery. We love what we do and are lucky as all get out to work with great teams. Why quit?
So what if we can’t endow a center that will cure diabetes and epilepsy? Or cover the county with bus stop shelters? We can still advocate for these causes. And raise money. And volunteer. That much, we can do.
As we sat on our couch sipping our coffee talking about what we didn’t win, we realized what we had right in front of us.
That morning, I woke up and hopped out of bed and put on my favorite nubby socks. I poured myself a strong cup of coffee. I did not wake up a gazillionaire.
But, I woke up.
And I woke up happy.
What are the chances I can make a difference for causes in which I believe and those whom I love? I’d like to think they are pretty good.
May those odds ever be in my favor.