Seconds

If I ever write my memoir, I fancy the title "Seconds". It describes so much of my life in situ. Second in birth order, second chair in junior high band, second wife, second mother, the second woman pastor in the congregation. 

In western culture, coming in second is missing the mark, failure, not measuring up. One should always strive to be first. I quite like second place. Oh, I have a competitive streak, and I like a challenge, especially if someone tells me I can't do something. And I'm sure there are some firsts in my life if I rummaged through enough memories. But there is something about being second that suits me just right. 

Maybe it's accommodation to the arbitrariness of birth order. (Although it pleased me to no end, and confounded my brother, when people thought I was oldest). But most seconds were a choice. I could have said no to becoming a wife and mother. I could have worked harder in the band. (My director called me the best laziest clarinet player he ever had). I could have waited for a call to a congregation that never had a woman pastor.

There is some "cover" in being second. I could enjoy band without endless practicing. My call to ministry was tenuous enough, I didn't want to convince a congregation as well as myself that a woman could serve as a leader. At marriage, one never knows if becoming a parent will come with it. A potential partner with children provides a clear-eyed choice.  

I wonder what concept might organize your memoirs.