Lately, my life comes down to seconds.
I’ve attended quite a few second weddings and I know many people on their second marriage. I find myself second guessing myself and others. I read or watch the news and realize how often life changes in a split second.
Teenagers may not do this anymore but in my day, getting to second base was a big deal. People take pride in saying, “I’m a second-generation whatever.”
Maybe second isn’t so bad. I’m all about second opinions. Coming in second in a contest may not win the prize but you’re up there.
When I cook, I like it when people get second helpings. I also support the group, “Second Helpings.” They give leftover food to the shelters.
I’m firmly implanted in the second half of life.
I’ve never thought about it, but I like and embrace this concept. My most memorable triumph of “second” is a young, very close family member who just recently got a “second chance” – basically on life – after a very bad accident. I think her outlook now is very different than before.
I believe when one door closes the second one opens up.
Our good friend Big Sal embraces the “seconds” concept – she’s an avid Goodwill shopper extraordinaire.
It’s like that song by Shalamar from the 1980s – “the second time around is so much better, and I'll make it better than the first time”.