My Father died. I'm totally alone now.

RIP

THOMAS GEORGE BOULANGER

MARCH 18, 1937-JULY 16, 2009

OMG I have just survived the most harrowing week of my life. My Daddy died on July 16th.
We knew this time he must really be dying. For the past two years we have been on the “death” watch as each time we left the hospital I was admonished to spend time with him because he was dying after all. Well, two years later and he did it. He died on me. I did not give him my permission. I didn’t want to be an orphan. That is what I am now. I have no parents. I am parent less. No more Father’s Day!! No more laying in bed with him just holding hands and reminiscing. Never again. That is so permanent.

I have no one left in this whole world who loves me unconditionally and that cuts me to the quick. Oh, those around me would say that they love me “unconditionally” but that is a lie. They might mean it, but I know that it isn’t true. I’m 45 I know the harsh realities. My family has all been keeping me busy reorganizing and cleaning and etc. I have cried a lot. But those tears are the ones that are “acceptable” tears. I haven’t had the good cry yet. The soul crying I know it is here it is always brimming up to the surface, bubbling and yet not allowed to be heard or seen. I need to do this in private.

David planned a vacation (during the time my Dad was put on hospice) for this week. He wanted to go to Canada. I didn’t plan to go. I went and did the passport photo’s and never really intending to go. If my Dad was alive I would stay home. He was going to be alive so all the cooperating with my husband was just my ruse. I was pretending to want to go.

My Dad died and now I’m on vacation. Does that make sense to you? My heart is broken and yet I trudge through all the tourist spots in Canada. I cry special tears because my Dad always wanted to come here. We talked about it a lot when I was a kid. He wanted to live here. It is gorgeous here. I feel a bit renewed. I feel sad too because I don't get to go home and tell him all about it. It crushed me one morning when I woke up and my first thought was "I can't wait to tell Dad."

I have been doing A LOT of soul searching this week. I go from guilt to sorrow to anger at my sisters and then back to the deep unending loneliness. I feel as if I have been set a drift. I have taken care of my Dad for over 7 years and just the past 2 years has he been really bed ridden. I could always use my Dad as an excuse for the in-law functions. If I didn’t want to do/be somewhere “MY DAD” worked. I am a hermit at heart. I love being home. I love it more than anything. I wish I never had to leave my home in reality. It might be a sickness but who knows. The only thing that would make me happier being home is if it took visitors to hop into a tractor to reach my home. No cars could go over the terrain. Alas, no tractors are needed.
I can’t remember if I blogged about my Dad’s premonition or not. I find myself thinking about my “home invader” and how I can best protect my family. Was it just my Father’s crazy talk, lack of oxygen or was it a real premonition and why would God warn me through him? Is something worse going to happen?

I can’t do worse. I can barely function in my daily activities. If it weren’t for my dogs I would lie in bed and not get up. My dogs still need to go out, they still need to be let in. I need to watch the Mommy’s and love on their babies. I’m an orphan dontcha know. I’m 45 and an orphan. I could feel sorry for myself if I allow it. Some people suck hard and they are still alive. My Dad was everything rolled into one person. My past. My history. Where I come from.

When my Mom died 22 years ago I was only 21 and didn’t even have any children of my own yet. I knew what her being dead meant. Nothing was to prepare me for my Father’s death. It is different this time. I know how permanent it is now.

My Father lived with me in my house with my family. Everywhere I went he went. My Father was my mentor, my guide, my companion and the best friend I will ever have in my life and now I have lost that. I’m not anchored. I feel like I’m floating. I wonder if this lack of connection is what a midlife crisis feels like. Haven’t had one. Never intended to anyway. I don’t want to seem like I’m not thankful for my kids and my hubby. I love them but now I’m rootless. I have no one backing me up from my past. My heritage, my people. My kids don’t appreciate what it means to be a Boulanger. They don’t appreciate it and aren’t willing to fight for what it stands for. Being a Boulanger means everything to me. I MEAN EVERYTHING. We are a dying breed, the heritage, pride and sense of loyalty is waning. I want it to mean something to my children. My sisters and I know that being a Boulanger means we can get mad at one another, swear them off until they call.

It is displaced loyalty where you know that NO matter what we have each others back. No matter what.

I don’t think I instilled that in my children. It is a feeling in your soul. Rest in Peace Dad. I will never forget you... I promise.