Heartbroken...again.

We are back from our ski trip.

It was truly the most amazing family vacation
we've had to date.









Maybe it was the kids' ages.
So much fun. So independent.


So addicted to skiing.
Like daredevils down the mountain.








And snowball fights.











And hot-tubbing outside in the midst of a heavy snowstorm.






And being surprised by the visit from
"Lucky" the Leprechaun on March 17th.

Or maybe it was so amazing for Animesh and I because we chose to savor this vacation just a little bit more.

You see, the day after we arrived we got the call from the vet as we skiied off the chair lift. The kids were in ski school for the day, so it was just Animesh and I on top of the mountain when we got the devastating news.

Our sweet/naughty/precious/loveable Yorkie puppy, Buddy, had died on the table during a routine neutering. He was just a few days shy of celebrating his 6-month birthday.

Animesh and I fell apart. We continued to ski, but we did so with heavy hearts and tear-stained faces.

The rest of the day was a blur.

Each day that followed was a little easier for Animesh and I. Let's face it...denial is a convenient coping mechanism. On our return flight home yesterday he and I choked up a dozen times on the plane at each mention of Buddy's name by the kids. We chose to wait to tell them until after the ski trip. So this morning after we all woke up, Animesh broke the news.

We piled into our bed, and we all cried. Hard. Our time was too short with sweet Buddy. There are no explanations as to why his little body couldn't handle the anesthesia.

We have no answers.

But, we have a short amount of sweet memories to cling to. Like Deven nicknaming Buddy "Mr. Naughty-Pants." And "Mr. Stinker-roonie." And how Buddy would nip at Trevor's tennis shoes every single morning before school. And how Buddy loved to snuggle with Priya at night while she fell asleep. And how Buddy would get so excited whenever he would greet one of us in the morning. Or when we got home after being gone for a long while.

So for now, we are heartbroken. This afternoon I will retrieve our almost-13-year-old beagle, Spridle, from boarding at the vet.

I will also have in hand Buddy's ashes so that we can say good-bye...just like we did with Kirby. We will sprinkle those ashes and send our love messages up to Buddy in balloons...just as we did with Kirby....nearly 2 years ago to the day. Just plain eerie.

We will frame a picture of Buddy. And place it next to Kirby's picture. And we will continue to remember them in our nightly bedtime prayers when we list each family member.

Time will undoubtedly heal the heartache.

But we will never forget you, Buddy-boy. Never.