Chances Are…


When I woke up early this morning and couldn’t go back to sleep, I lay in bed and thought about the million tasks we have to accomplish next month to get moved out of our Texas house that we recently sold – somewhat out of the blue.  This stream of consciousness led me down the memory lane to a post I’d written here about Second Chances.

I found it in the archives for September, 2012 and  re-read it and decided it was a little over the top because I devoted so much time talking about the “epistemology” of second chances.  Seriously, what was that about?  Clearly no one gives a hoot or a holler about that word anymore.

However, I hit the “re-blog” button and planned to edit the re-blog but alas, apparently this isn’t possible.  Second Chances was in cyberspace once again – quite in keeping with its title.

For those of you who are my best followers and who read it before I could figure out how to retrieve and edit, thank you very much for indulging my Big Word Fantasies.  For those of you who just tuned in and have a burning interest in epistemology, please do take the time to visit the archives and the post.

What I intended to say is that I have been extraordinarily lucky to have had second chances to reconnect with my family and friends in Texas since we bought our home on Worsham Street in March, 2010.  I’ve shared more holidays, birthdays, domino-playing days and nights, barbecue brisket, bourbon, Tex-Mex, margaritas, Lone Star First Saturdays, wine festivals, bluebonnet pastures, cookie walks, cemetery crawls, country music, front-porch rocking and visiting, bird watching and driving back country roads in the past four years with cousins and old friends than in the previous forty years.  Yee Haw – I even got used to wearing cowboy boots and hats again.

I also found that taking these second chances gave me new first ones, too.  Living on Worsham Street in the little town of Montgomery was a slice of American life I’d lost faith in somewhere along the way.  My neighbors in the 600 block of Worsham became dear friends who reminded me that community and family are not abstract concepts but people who love and support each other in good and bad times.  I find that a message of hope for our country and our world.

I’ve added Rule Number Six to the five rules I made up in that September, 2012 post:  Don’t confuse your second chances with your first choices or your first choices may become your second chances.

Life is tricky, ain’t it?

About Sheila Morris

Sheila Morris is an essayist with humorist tendencies and a passion for photojournalism. She has published four nonfiction books including two memoirs, an essay collection and a collection of her favorite blogs from I'll Call It Like I See It. She has been blogging for seven years as her alter ego, The Red Man, her rescued Welsh terrier but now is reduced to writing as herself since the Red Man left Casa de Canterbury for good in February of 2016. She is a displaced Texan living in South Carolina with her wife Teresa Williams and their dogs Spike and Charly.
This entry was posted in Humor, Lesbian Literary, Life, Personal, Random, Reflections, Slice of Life, The Way Life Is and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to Chances Are…

  1. Pingback: Chances Are… | I'll Call It Like I See It

  2. Life is always tricky, but looks like you squeezed a fair amount out of Worsham Street. May those memories sustain you when you get a hankering for Texas and can’t slip away to indulge in barbeque and friendships.

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    • Ann,
      One of the best things that happened to me in the last 4 years was my discovery of my photography passion. When I get a hankering for Texas, I can always look at the thousands of pictures I took plus a few wonderful drawings you made for me of my friends there! I am lucky.

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      • Sheila,

        I love photography for that reason. It brings me back to places I love. Digital cameras make it so easy to go crazy and snap everything out there. I’m glad you have those horse drawings. Maybe you will find some equine friends in your travels through the Carolinas.

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      • Digital cameras must be the best invention since sliced bread!! I do absolutely love it and pity the Ansel Adams of the world who did it the hard way. Bless their hearts. 🙂
        I am thrilled to have all of my horse drawings and they will enjoy a place of prominence wherever I roam. Bless your heart…no really,do.

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  3. Maggie Seibel says:

    There’s a sadness in my heart over the loss of your Texas house. Sher spoke of it many times; how beautifully you decorated it and what comfort she felt rocking and talking with you on the porch. Even though I’ll never visit you there, it will always be a part of my history with you. Much love as you move forward on this tricky road. Maggie

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    • Maggie,
      So good to hear from you…I thought of you and Sherry when the Seahawks destroyed the Broncos! I told Teresa I knew Sherry was enjoying the heck out of that somewhere…
      I think of her visit to Worsham and smile. We had such a good time rocking and talking. I swear there is something that calms our souls on that porch, and I will miss that. Plus she was able to see Selma, too, so that meant a lot to me.
      But you will be happy to know that the family moving in has four delightful children ranging in age from ninth to first grade and they have lived behind me in a rental house for the past four years and are deliriously happy to have their own home.
      I feel good about it for them and for us, too. It was time for me to be in South Carolina again.
      Another Morris lives in Seattle these days – my so-called nephew but really second cousin Trevor. He lives there with his girlfriend on Dexter Avenue in an apartment. They love it!!
      I hope you are doing better and would love to have you visit us if the mood hits you to travel to the South…you have had your own tricky road for a long time now. You will always be a part of my history with Sherry.
      Love,
      Sheila

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