Twenty-five or so years ago, a buddy and I had a tradition.  When we were traveling and our paths crossed, there was no better place to meet than an Embassy Suites bar. Why?   Four words:  FREE JACK AND GINGERS.

We took full advantage of this particular Happy Hour amenity. Whatever Embassy Suites had calculated as the average beverage cost per guest, I’m fairly certain the two of us personally damaged the business model.

There was something uniquely satisfying about walking up to a hotel bar, ordering a Jack and Ginger, reaching for our wallet and then remembering: Nah!   After all, it would practically have been financially irresponsible not to get our money’s worth.

We haven’t had a free Jack and Ginger at an Embassy Suites together in decades.  But I still remember those nights.  Or at least most of them. Which brings me to Toby Keith.

Life Happens Between the Jack and Gingers

I’ll be attending an Oklahoma football game with my son later this year, and we are both huge Toby Keith fans.  Toby is an Oklahoma legend whose music became part of the soundtrack for a lot of us.

One of his lines has always stuck with me:

“There’s some nights I can’t remember, (with) friends I’ll never forget!”

It’s a great line.  Twenty-five years ago, I probably focused too much on the first part. Today, I focus on the second.  Friends I’ll never forget.

A lot happens in 25 years.  We get married. We raise kids. We build a career. Maybe we lose a job or start over. There are financial pressures we never imagined when we were sitting at that Embassy Suites bar drinking on the hotel’s dime.  There are illnesses and injuries. Parents get older and pass. Plans fall apart. People disappoint us. We disappoint ourselves.

There are stretches when everything seems to be going our way.  And there are stretches when simply getting through the week feels like an accomplishment.  That’s where resilience becomes real.

People often describe resilience as an individual characteristic.  Be tough. Keep going. Don’t quit.  All of that is important.  But after enough years, we realize that resilience is rarely an individual sport.

Sometimes resilience looks like a spouse who believes in us when our own confidence has taken a beating. Or a parent who loves us just for existing.  It’s someone who knows we’re scared even when we’re pretending we’re not. Sometimes it’s a friend who calls at exactly the right time.  Or the friend who doesn’t call at all—he or she just shows up with encouragement.  Those people don’t eliminate the hard times.  They help us through them.

What Are We Really Celebrating?

I’ve enjoyed plenty of drinks in my life. I’ve raised glasses at weddings, birthdays, victories and reunions. A cold beer after (or during!) a round of golf or a Jack and Ginger with an old friend can be one of life’s simple pleasures.  But somewhere along the way, it’s easy to confuse the drink with the experience. They aren’t the same thing.

The Jack and Ginger didn’t tell the story that had us laughing so hard we couldn’t breathe. It didn’t remember what I was going through. It didn’t sit beside me during a difficult time. It didn’t help when money was tight. It didn’t remind me that a setback wasn’t the end of the story.

My Family did.  My spouse did. My friends did. That’s the part I want us all to focus on.

Have fun.  Go to the games. Take the trips. Celebrate birthdays and weddings and promotions. Laugh until our face hurts. Collect ridiculous stories that our friends will still be telling 30 years later.  Just don’t mistake what’s in our glass for what’s making us happy.

Because life eventually tests all of us. And when it does, we find out pretty quickly what’s important.  It’s the people who celebrate with us when we’re succeeding—and don’t disappear when we’re struggling.  Those are the relationships worth investing in.  That is all that matters.

It’s the People

So when I go to Oklahoma this year and hear Toby Keith’s music, I’ll probably think about those old Embassy Suites nights.  And I’ll smile.

Maybe someday that same buddy and I will find ourselves sitting across from each other at another hotel bar.  Maybe it’ll be a Jack and Ginger. Maybe it’ll just be a ginger ale.  Who cares?

We’ll talk about the things that went right over those 25 years—and probably some of the things that didn’t. Because resilience isn’t simply being strong enough to withstand life’s difficult moments.  It’s having people worth holding onto while we do.

So here’s to Toby.  Here’s to family and old friends.

And here’s to finally understanding what we were really celebrating all along.

It was never the drink.  It was always the people.