Dear Sister, 40 is Freedom

In just 39 short days, my little sister will turn FORTY years old! The following is my day 39 blog and my 2nd wish for her birthday.

Dear sister,

In 39 days you will enter a phase of your life that is built for pure enjoyment. From the moment you begin to wear the big 4-0, you are officially free.

It took me 40 years to realize that all the trials and tribulations of life had purpose. I always believed that everything happened for a reason. And I was always fairly certain that it was all connected somehow. But I never fully understood how the exploration of my twenties and the discovery of my thirties would lead to absolute freedom in my forties.

Your 40th birthday will bring with it relief and an unyielding sovereignty. All of that time you spent figuring out who you were as a teenager and a twenty-something go-getter and the years of setting plans in motion toward the fulfillment of every dream you ever dreamed in your thirties will pay off. You will finally be the ruler of your life.

40 is Freedom, sister. No longer concerned with building your life, you can now just LIVE IT!

My wish for you today is that you will embrace the freedom of your forties whole-heartedly and just ENJOY the world you have created without worry or concern.

I love you,

Sister

Dear Sister, 40 is a Time to Dream

Four years ago, I prepared to turn 40 by blogging for 40 days until my birthday. Forty days from today, my little sister will turn 40. So for the next 40 days, I will blog for my sister. I will write everything I want her to know about being 40 and anything else that may come to mind.

I hope you will follow along and get ready to wish Denise a HAPPY 40th BIRTHDAY!

Forty is a time to dream.

Dear sister,

My sister Denise and I with my dog in the Badlands of South Dakota.

I never imagined being 40 years old and I certainly never imagined that my little sister would be 40.  But 40 was my favorite year of life to date! 

Some of my earliest memories are actually of dreams I had for my future. I had hoped to grow up, get married, have a house full of kids and build the American dream. As it turns out, all of that was not in the cards for me. However, one of my greatest joys has been watching you build your American dream. I am so thankful that you have been able to experience the thrill of being a wife and mother and that you were able to give our parents a grandchild to cherish. 

Turning 40 brought forth a revelation for me that I want to pass along to you. Dreaming isn't just for children. I realized somewhere on the route to this major milestone that I had been reinventing myself for years and that it was still ok for me to pursue my dreams. I learned not to be discouraged just because the dreams I had as a child may not have come to pass exactly as I thought they would. And I made a decision, roughly 40 days out, that my fortieth year was going to rock. There's a lot to be said for DECIDING to enjoy something before it happens.

So I made a plan for my fortieth year. I decided that I would volunteer once a month. I planned to spend more time having fun and less time worrying. I didn't map out every detail but I plotted it out in my head and began to dream it up in my heart. Indeed, 40 was the happiest year of my life.

Sister, as you embark on your fortieth year, my wish for you is many more years of dreams fulfilled. I hope that you will dare to dream in your fortieth year and that you will watch as your dreams continue to come true. It is never too late to do absolutely anything you want to do. 

I also wish for you a happiness beyond measure. I hope you experience joy in a way you never have.

I love you!

Michele

Don't Eat the Puppies

My dog might eat your dog for dinner. She loves other dogs. She loves to play with other dogs, especially if they are smaller than her. But my dog will flip on a dime. And she might eat your dog for dinner.

From the moment my pup and I became family, I knew her checkered past might pose a problem. Picked up off of the street with a number of other dogs, my girl lived life as a stray for an unknown amount of time. She was painfully shy at first. In fact, when I visited with her at the Humane Society, she wouldn't come near me. She did, however, sidle up beside my young nephew.

At nine years of age, my nephew exhibited patience beyond measure. He sat quietly on the floor of the tiny visitation room and waited for the skinny, black, lab-mix puppy to come to him. Eventually, she did. It was then that I decided that puppy was my puppy.

The next day, I spent hours shuffling through the adoption process and I brought her home. She shook and shivered all the way. Her ears drooped and her head hanged so low, her chin nearly touched the seat of the car. Once in a while she glanced my way. Her big brown puppy dog eyes pierced my heart. I just wanted to hug her all the time.

It took weeks before she barked for the first time. Evidence abounded that she was previously abused. Every time I picked up my shoes or wrapped up the cord of my computer, she scurried behind the couch to hide. Determined to train her right, I crated her at night, fed her by the clock, and walked her regularly every day. She loved to ride in the car and I took her with me everywhere.

But alas, I am a bad owner. I am a bad dog mom. Before long, she was sleeping in my bed, sharing my bacon, and basically running the house. And as she outgrew her shyness, we started to see her evil side. If I let her, she would devour the mail and the mail man. She can never be off of her leash because she would do one of three things: run away, eat a squirrel, or bite a neighbor.

I have a mean dog.

I loathe the look that people give me when they realize she is mean too. It's that, "why would you have a mean dog" look. Well, I will tell you why. Mean dogs deserve love too. They deserve a good home. I love my mean dog. She might want to eat your dog for dinner. She might want to take out the mailman but... She's mine and I'm hers. And I love her.