Category Archives: Ex-hole

Finding beauty in every day… a 365 day challenge. #beautyineveryday


I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how to cope with all the happenings taking place in the world today. And not just on the global or national scale (which, of course, are heavy enough) but, all the things that are happening day to day, month to month, to each of us. Life, by nature, challenges us – pushes us to overcome on a daily basis. Teaches us how to cope (or not cope) and forces us to keep moving forward because we have no choice. Time goes on, days go by, you wake up, you go to work, you go to sleep and then wake up to do it all over again. It’s an unavoidable cycle that, if you’re not careful, can slip by you in infinite time and the next thing you know you wake up at 37 and wonder how the hell you got here so quickly.

Finding purpose is something that I have admittedly struggled with. But I think that’s OK. I think that part of the journey of life is discovering and re-discovering purpose. Re-discovering self. Growing up I had a purpose – horses. In college I had a purpose. At least, the kind of purpose a 20 y/o woman surrounded by powerful, ambitious and brilliant women has. A purpose that I still tap into. With my ex, I had a purpose – a life, a love, a family and a future. In the years since then it’s been much less clear.

I used to use this blog as an opportunity to process. To share. To put what I am feeling on the inside out into the world, with the hope that someone would hear it – or that I would be heard. I used to sit in front of my computer late at night bursting with thoughts and feelings that I felt compelled to get out. And then I would go through phases where I’d grow silent. Repression, maybe? Avoidance – more likely. At times I thought perhaps I had healed what needed healing and had nothing left to say. Other times, I thought to myself that perhaps I just had nothing left to feel.

Today I feel compelled to write again. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately and have known for quite some time that the day was imminent that I would feel this unyielding need to sit in front of my computer and write again – and not because it was my job or someone was telling me to do it. But, because I feel this insatiable need to do it, to get it out there and to share it with others. Perhaps it’s because I’ve reached an emotional place where I know I’m not alone and want to feel the support of my community around me. Perhaps it’s because I think I have something to offer to those who are in a similar space. Or, perhaps it’s because I’ve come to accept some things about myself and my life, my career and my situation, that have forced me to opened up again and to share.

I experienced something quite remarkable last night (something that I will go into detail on in a future post) but the essence of what it taught me is that in order for my life and my energy to flow, I need to find my voice and to express it. To find my joy and to share it with others. I could sit here and go into an over-analysis of my astrology charts, numerology, colorstrology, birthday charts, aura, energies, etc., but that might seem boring and a little new age for most of you. The important thing that I know and have learned about myself through this is that I have a deep, deep empathy for others – one that has, at times, led me to have premonitions or a telepathic connection (yeah, I know. sounds crazy! – and for yet another post) – and a desire to influence happiness and positivity in others. I give more of myself than is healthy at times, but that is a choice that I make conciously and willingly. I also harbor emotions too strongly and too deeply, and that has often closed a door around my heart that is hard to reopen. But that’s OK. That’s life. That’s learning and that is progress. I also know that I can comfort people just by being in their presence. That I am often a rock in an otherwise chaotic life. And that fills me with joy and a sense of purpose.

So… this leads me to the purpose of this post. The last couple of years have been very tumultuous in my life – relationships, cancer, work. And the last six months  have been particularly challenging at work. We have been in the midst of many changes, much of which have a direct impact on me, my team and the work that we do. It’s unsettling, and frustrating and infuriating, at times. After months of resistence to it I was able to realize that the negativity was not going to change or solve anything. Only make it harder to cope – harder to move on. So I have been working the last few months to create positive energy at work. To give some of my (sometimes exasperating) sense of optimism back to my team. It may sound silly but, I have created a white board where I’ve asked that we write, draw or attach the joy that we want to find in our work that day. The comments range from silly to serious, inside jokes to personal experiences. My intention is to help everyone find a reason to laugh, a reason to smile, a reason to think to themselves that things aren’t as bad as they feel right now.

This doesn’t mean things aren’t bad. And it certainly doesn’t mean that the feelings we are feeling and the experiences we are having – with work, with life, with politics, with humanity – aren’t valid. It just means that there is also much to appreicate in the world. There is much to love and much to find joy in. And in order to be our best selves, to find the courage and the strength to change the wrongs, to find our purpose – we must fuel it with joy… with appreciation. With love.  With compassion.

And so I am challenging myself (and any of those who wish to join) to take a journey with me – to post something every day  for 365 days that is beautiful… that you find joy, happiness or laughter in. Something you appreciate and/or love. Something that inspires you. Repeat posts are OK, because this journey is for you, not me or anyone else. We are just here to support you. And if you miss a day, that’s OK too, because there is no judgement here. No competition. No failure. This is for you. This is for me. This is what I feel compelled to do to keep my focus and to keep moving forward. Perhaps, to move beyond.

Use the hashtag #beautyineveryday and let’s begin…

My Day 1 selection is for the women in my life: past, present and future. When I had the idea I decided to go through all my facebook photos and pull pics of me with the women I love, who have touched me and inspired me. In doing so I found myself feeling overwhelmed with pride and joy – and the recognition that I have been fortunate to have been touched by so many remarkable women who have grounded and shaped me, and served as role models for the woman that I hope to be. There is so much joy and laughter in these photos. As well as happiness free of the gravity of sadness, uncertainty, unknowns. They remind me just how much love, kindness and passion there is in the world. All of which I hope to tap into on this journey. They remind me of the hope that I have.

So my beauty in the world today is all of you. You wonderful, gentle, inspirational, powerful women.

Day 1




Last Goodbye.

Boat ride

This is our last goodbye
I hate to feel the love between us die
But it’s over
Just hear this and then I’ll go
You gave me more to live for
More than you’ll ever know

(Jeff Buckley)

I scolded him the morning he died. He woke me Thanksgiving morning with his head on the bed, whining, because he wanted to jump up and join me. I was tired, and had come in really late the night before and I wanted to sleep another hour or so undisturbed. The bed was too small for the both of us, so I told him “no!” and to go lie back down. After a few more protests, he finally did.

I wish I had let him up to cuddle.

Bucks chew

An hour later I woke again to find him just sitting in the middle of the room, staring out the window. I thought it was a little strange but dismissed it pretty quickly when he jumped up to join me as I was climbing out of bed. As he always does, happy to greet me… and even happier to know that our next stop was outside where he could run around my parent’s farm with their dog Peaches. That was always our routine. Straight downstairs and out the door. That day was no different.

I had my pajamas on. I let him out the door and watched for just a bit as he greeted Peaches in his typical fashion… taking her out with an overly enthusiastic body-slam. I chuckled.

I walked to the kitchen in search of breakfast. Corn Pops, it is! I filled the bowl, poured some milk and walked back into the great room where I could watch Buckley and Peaches from the double glass doors at the back of the house. I stood there for about a minute, watching them run around the field, wrestling, bouncing, chasing sticks. My dad was out in the garden. My mom was there, too, standing at the top of the hill watching them play as well. It seems kind of surreal, now. I took particular notice of where each was.

I remember watching him and feeling warm, and filled with love. I saw him circle around the field one time and head back up the hill towards where my mom was standing. They were bringing a stick back, ready for another toss. As he rounded the top of the hill and I saw his face I remember thinking to myself “God, he is so happy. It almost looks as if he’s smiling.”

And that’s the moment it happened.

In the very next stride he was on the ground. At first, it seemed as if he was going to take a break – which wasn’t entirely unusual for him. He’d sit down in the sun and watch for a bit before jumping back up and taking off again after Peaches. Only this time, when he went down he went straight to his side. There was a moment where it looked as if he was going to roll and then all of a sudden everything was still.

I instantly knew something was wrong. I know my dog. I know this is not something he would ever do. I dropped my bowl and took off towards the door. When I opened it I started calling his name.

“Buckley! Buckley, come here! Buckley!”


My mom was still standing at the top of the hill watching.

“Mom, mom, that’s not normal! What’s wrong with him?! Buckley!!”

By now I’m running, panic setting in.

I drop to the ground when I get to his side and embrace his face. He’s staring back at me but there’s nothing there. His tongue is hanging limply out the side of his mouth.

My mom reaches us at about the same time, takes off her gloves and touches him.

“Emmie… he’s dead.”

“NO! NO! NO! NO! Not my baby. No! Buckley, get up. Wake up! Buckley! Oh my god, no!”

“Mom, what’s wrong with him?!! What happened??! He’s still warm, what do we do?!”

Immediately my mom had him on his back and started chest compressions.

The 20 minutes after that are a blur.

I tried blowing into his mouth to get him oxygen. Nothing. In a panic, I called 911, who transferred me to the local police department who took what seemed like a lifetime to tell me that there was nothing they could do and referred me to 411 for a local vet.


In a moment of desperation, my mom told me to take over the compressions as she went into the house to look up a number. In retrospect, the moment I reached him we should have jumped in the car and headed to the emergency vet. Not that it would have changed anything about the situation but it may have saved 10 minutes of panic and desperation.

My dad, who had been working in the lower field, rounds the corner at this point completely unaware of what was going on. When he realizes that I’m sobbing and screaming, not petting or wrestling with my dog, he immediately goes into dad mode. He grabs Buckley and we bring him into the house, he takes over compressions as I grab my bag and tell my mom we need to get into the car and start driving.

The closest Emergency Vet is in Meredith, about 25 minutes away. I know in my gut that that’s too far away for any chance but, it’s easy to convince myself that I need to continue trying.

The car ride over is also a blur. I know I sat in the trunk with Buckley across my lap, and did compressions the entire ride… sobbing, non-stop. I kept asking why… why was this happening? What had I done wrong? How could this possibly be real?

I had a near-death experience once where, in the moments I thought I was going to die I felt like I saw my entire future (or what it would have been) flash before my eyes. A lifetime covered in only a moment or two, but it was as real as anything I’ve ever experienced.

Bucks leaves

It was similar with Buckley. Our entire future flashed before me as I embraced him. There was so much we still had left to do together. We had also reached such a sweet spot in our relationship, where things were clicking perfectly. Running on-leash, hikes and adventures off… dog parks, play dates, kid cuddling, high-fives. He had so much left to give the world, there was no way he could be leaving it now.

This isn’t real. This can’t be happening.

He was still warm but his tongue had turned blue.

As we pulled up to the vet and I watched them pick him up out of my arms and carry him through the doors I knew it was over. It was one of those moments where it feels like everything is happening in slow motion and I remember the details of every single thing around me. The color of the two cars in the parking lot. The sound of the car horn as my mom pulls to a stop. Feeling a drop of sweat slip slowly down my cheek. Or, maybe that was a tear. It was hard to tell at that point.

We ran back to the ER with them and I watched as they laid him on the table and checked for any signs of life.

She looked up at me, “I don’t hear a heartbeat. I’m so sorry. We could try to resuscitate him but [as she checks his pupils with no reaction], he’s been without oxygen for so long and the beginning signs of rigor mortis are already apparent in his jaw. I’m afraid he’s gone.”

I walked over to him and I held him, sobbing. My sweet, sweet boy. So full of life just moments ago… now still, and peaceful on the cold, metal table.

“What could have done this to him? How did this happen??”

“Well, we could do a necropsy but that won’t guarantee we’ll know what happened. Often times, with something this sudden and out of the blue, it’s usually a heart defect or a seizure disorder, and there are no symptoms to give us any warning.”

“What’s involved in the necropsy?”

“We would cut him open and… “

“No, no. I don’t want to do that.”

“OK. Well, [as she pushes around on his stomach] there aren’t any signs that this was caused by a rupture of any internal organs. If that were the case, his belly would be distended from internal fluid buildup. That makes me think it could have been a heart defect that wasn’t detectable if there weren’t any symptoms, or possibly a seizure. But with seizures, you would see signs, like jerking, which doesn’t sound like happened in this case?”

“No, there was nothing. One moment he was running around the yard and the next he was on the ground not moving. He just kind of laid down like he was taking a break and that was it.”

“Well, a massive seizure might have been enough to kill him instantly but it’s unlikely. It’s also possible it was an aneurism but, we’ll never really know… I’ll give you some time with him to say goodbye.” She and the tech leave the room.

I’ve been holding his face this entire time, unable to stop stroking his cheeks and rubbing his ears as I often did. I kissed his nose, right at the bridge between his eyes, the softest, most perfect spot for kissing. My favorite spot. He was still looking up at me. He never stopped.

I bent down to hug him. He was still warm. As I reached up to stroke his head again, his ear popped up.

Adoption day.

Adoption day.

It was perfect. Perfect that he should leave me just exactly as he came… that one ear always up. So much character in life and, apparently, death.

It’s amazing how strong you can be when you need to be. Losing Buckley was my worst nightmare come true. There were moments in those last 15 minutes alone with him where I thought I could never leave him. How could I leave this beautiful boy who I had rescued, nurtured, adored and fallen in love with behind on a sterile, stale table with machines all around him? How could this boy not be coming home with me, to run around in the yard and sleep by the big Russian fireplace in the great room?

And yet, I had to. I had to said goodbye, as that choice had been taken from me. I held him for what seemed like a lifetime. Rubbed his belly for the last time. Kissed his forehead, then his nose, one last time. I told him that I loved him more than anything in the world… and I walked away.

I realized as I was leaving that I was still in my pajamas, unkempt hair and flip flops. My hands and jacket smelled like Buckley. I was immediately afraid that smell would go away and I’d never smell it again.

The feelings that I feel are devastating. My heart has been shattered into a million pieces. I’m angry. I’m confused. How could the dog, this 3 year old, healthy, active, happy and joyful dog die in an instant? How and why does this happen?

Later I did some research looking for answers and it turns out things like this don’t happen very often at all. The first bit of info I found that I felt offered a possible explanation is this:

“While dogs do not normally suffer the classic heart attacks we see in people, there are canine heart conditions that may cause an acute collapse. Dilated cardiomyopathy is a disease with an inherited predisposition for some breeds such as Doberman pinschers and boxers. In this case, the heart (“cardio”) muscle (“myo”) is stretched and thinned out so much it can no longer efficiently pump the right amount of blood. The body receives less oxygenated blood than it needs, and areas get shut down, leading to collapse. Some dogs with this problem simply run across the yard and drop dead.”

That last sentence hit particularly close to home.

Looking back, I can pick out moments where maybe there were signs but, I’m trying not to do that. Even if I did notice something a little off, it wouldn’t have changed the outcome. Buckley was happy. Buckley got a ton of exercise and ran around fields with dogs and me all the time. There was no indication that anything was ever wrong with him.

The outreach and support has been amazing. I missed Thanksgiving because it was too raw and too painful. Despite not wanting to be alone, I couldn’t bring myself to pretend I wasn’t thinking about it constantly, or wanting to cry and scream about it at every moment. I spent the majority of that day in a haze, curled up on the couch sobbing. Hours went by where I must have been in shock because, I don’t remember much. When I finally ‘came to’, I pulled myself together and showered. It felt good, despite the burning of the water on my reddened eyes and chapped cheeks from all of the tears.

Then, the friend army arrived. One for the night after Thanksgiving. She brought me leftovers from her family’s dinner and I managed to eat something for the first time that day. We drank [a lot of] wine and watched romantic comedies to fill our heads with any other feeling but sorrow.

The second friend took over from the moment I arrived back home at my empty apartment in Boston. The apartment with a newly purchased bag of dog food in the pantry and his favorite toy still sitting on his couch. He kept me company, told me stories and kept my mind off of my sadness for the night. And my brother and his girlfriend invited us to join them at a movie. It was a great distraction.

The third rescue came in the form of a best friend and her daughter for the weekend. We had a planned holiday weekend where we were surprising Bella with her first Nutcracker performance, going to a fancy dinner and decorating my Christmas tree. Her daughter is a beautiful 9 year old girl who started crying with me when they walked in the door. Kids are amazingly empathetic.

It was this friend who said something really profound and deeply healing to me. Her daughter started to cry when she found out about Buckley. They were one of the first people I called in search of a shoulder to cry on. As she became more and more upset and asked her mom why Buckley had to die, she told me that she responded by saying this:

“You see, Bella. Often times people and animals are put on this earth and brought into our lives for a very specific reason. Buckley was brought into Emmie’s life to teach her that she could love again. And now, his job is complete.”

Oh my. How true that is. Buckley in his unwavering loyalty and commitment to me, opened my heart again. He always made it clear that I was #1. That I was the most important thing in his world. At the end of a decade of hurt, lies and dishonesty, he healed me in a way that I didn’t know I needed to be healed, and it was just in these last few months with him that I was beginning to fully realize that.

Buckley & Noa, Winnipesaukee 09/2013.

Buckley & Noa, Winnipesaukee 09/2013.

He wasn’t always perfect but, he was perfect for me. And he was so very, very special. A gentle giant balanced by the energy of a puppy and the calmness of an old man. Great with kids, protective at any sign of threat and by my side at every moment… even if I was just around the corner in the bathroom, he’d get up and come sit in the hall to make sure I was safe. He wanted to be where I was, always.

One of my last memories of him before the trauma of his death was the smile on his face just before he collapsed. I’ll also always be grateful that I came home the night before instead of spending the night with a friend as I had planned to do. At about 12:30am on Thanksgiving eve my gut told me to make the hour trek back to NH. I don’t know why but, as I pulled into my parent’s house and walked up to the front door, I was glad that I did.

There he was, sitting quietly by the front door, staring out the glass pane at the driveway waiting for me. I have that image of him etched in my memory, the house dark behind him and the joy on his face, as it was being lit up by the porch light left on for my return. Everyone else in the house was sound asleep but, he was there. Watching and waiting, greeting me with his usual enthusiasm and a kiss on the face. We walked upstairs to the bedroom, I put my pjs on and just before climbing into bed I took his face in my hands, stroked his cheeks and kissed his nose and told him that I loved him. Our typical nightly routine but this one so much more special than I could have possibly known.

I got into bed, pulled the covers up and felt full of warmth as he curled up on the floor next to me. I heard him let out a deep sigh, as he often did when settling in for the night and I thought to myself, “this is perfect” as we both drifted off to sleep.

Sweet dreams my angel. I love you, always.

Bucks eyes 2

RIP. 04/09/10 – 11/28/13.

Three years.

I wrote this in 2010, on the anniversary of one of the most life-changing days in my life thus far. I remember moments of how that day felt vividly. I wouldn’t call this a poem… more like prose. Consider it my thoughts, how I think them, on paper…

Last year was the first year it went by and I had forgotten what day it was.

Three years.

Three years ago today,
I left you.
No longer we, together, breathing
The history that is us.
Three years ago today
I stopped chasing two,
And started deciding
For me.
Lies no longer heard,
Truth no longer forgiven.
Promises never kept.
Three years ago today,
Nine years from hello
I said goodbye to my future,
and discovered my present.
Your lips knew me, more than
your hands taught me.
Your actions broke me, more
than your heart
loved me.
Three years ago today
And you are no longer known,
Vanished with the tears shed
Too often, too cold.
I gave up you and found
The strength of me.
I surrendered and won,
The greatest battle that I have ever fought.
I changed my life,
I left you.
Three years ago today.