What being a Boulanger means to me.

LOVE NEVER DIES... BOULANGER

I have tried my best to explain what being a Boulanger has meant to me and David just doesn’t understand. He can’t figure out why I can’t/don’t embrace the Christian name like I do the Boulanger name. Boulanger is where I come from. Christian is who I am now. I want so badly to get a tattoo on my foot that says “Love never dies” Then underneath it the name Boulanger. My way of reminding myself of how important it has and is in my life. Getting a tattoo is where my husband apparently “draws the line in the sand”. So, all the crazy stuff I have done doesn’t warrant a threat but marking my OWN body is where I get a divorce?? I wonder to If my desire to get a tattoo is to distract me. I don’t know anything really right now. I know I’m mad at God . Why did I have to be one of the people who doesn’t get to grow old with their parents? My kids know their grandpa and I’m so blessed for that.

When I try to talk with my kids about my Mom and how dynamic she was and that I’m a lot like her they act like I’m trying to teach them about history and some person who didn’t exist. How can I tell your kids about a woman who made me into the Mom I am now? She was the best Mom ever.

I'm going to work in my yard.

Have you ever felt like hiding or running away?? I have hid from my whole family and crawled into the nursery and hid with a blanket when I have been overwhelmed. I have dreamt secretly about driving away. You know how sometimes you read about people who just drive away and don’t look back? I have thought about it myself. I could never bring myself to do it but I have sure thought about it plenty. Raising 4 kids is hard work. Home schooling even harder. Making sure the kids had what they needed education wise was an arduous task but well worth it. My husband going back to school and being stressed out has made me ponder divorce a lot. I have actually told him that it is “Good that we are poor otherwise we would be divorced.” He doesn’t believe in divorce unless of course I get a tattoo. Stupid. But who is the stupid one? You ever dream of running away or is it just me?

Right now I’m sitting in a ferry. I’m headed somewhere in Canada with David. We have already been on a ferry today and it was okay. Then we got to the next ferry and have had to sit around in the car and walk around Port Angeles all day. I’m becoming irritated by all the chatter.

<---The Ferry people

There were people who got out of their cars in the staging area and began chatting each other up. It annoyed me. I mean really annoyed me. They are never going to see each other again and they are practically pulling out their hibachi’s and cooking hot dogs together. I sat in the car playing solitaire on my phone. I thought to myself I could make friends like that too. What is the use tho? One of the strangers ended up trying to sell the other one something. Like a true car salesman. I laughed when I heard the word “sell.” David spent his seven hours having dinner with me, walking around this town and then cleaning out the car. Gotta keep things tidy.

<--BUTCHART GARDENS

I am looking forward to being alone tomorrow when he goes golfing. I will have 5-6 hours alone time. I have not been alone (cept for toilet) since my Dad died. Like I’m being monitored almost. Crazy thing. Sunday was Erica Barcus’ birthday. She turned 20. Her Mom texted her. Her dad called and told her he was sorry but had been too busy to send a card. Not so nice I’m afraid. When did birthdays quit mattering? This poor girl has parents who aren’t parenting her. She deserves more.

I told you I was on vacation right now right? Well, when David was in the planning stages I told him to make all the plans and I would go. He planned it for “US” at a golfing resort. Did I mention I don’t golf? I watch it on TV with him but there is no allure for me. Chasing a ball …. Not so much. Soon as he takes up scrap booking, beading, cross stitching I will take my first golf lesson. I like the hobbies I do. I also like researching stuff on line about dogs. Always starts and ends with dogs for me.

Speaking of dogs my Dad’s dog, GIGI is so sad. She goes and lays under the covers in the room she shared with my Dad. It breaks my heart to see her scratching to get in there. I know she knows he is not here. She smelled him and kissed him goodbye before I let the morticians take him. It was so hard to give my Dad the last kiss I will ever give him and never be able to look into his eyes and know he knows exactly what I’m saying with just my eyes. Who does that? Me and my Dad. We shared the same history, I was “his girl” as a young girl. Went everywhere with him. Had a few bad years with him during teenage years and then nothing but sharing our coffee every morning with creamer and whipped cream?? No one likes coffee like we do. Haven’t perked a pot since he passed. Don’t want whipped cream. This part is going to seem creepy I think but I have slept in his bed for 4 nights. Once I’m in the room I don’t ever want to go out into the main house. Once I’m in the main house I don’t want to walk past his room at all. Wish I could unbuild it. I don’t exactly know what is going on but that is what is happening with me. Maybe I am insane?

I tried to be the best daughter, care giver I know how to be. I still have regrets. I wasn’t with him when he died. He died all alone. I would never want that for anyone to die alone. I sat in the room with my computer blaring music and playing on Face book until 3 AM. I was singing my heart out loud. He didn’t complain. I put the baby monitor right by my head and laid on the couch. I fell asleep and slept until 8 AM. I hadn’t slept in weeks. He had been so antsy. (A week earlier he had fallen out of the bed.) He died without me by his side. I let him down. I will never get over that. I should have been there. I should have been holding his hand, singing, praying instead of sleeping.