RIP Kim Alyce Boulanger-White

Beloved Daughter, Sister, Friend, Wife and Mother.

Kim Alyce Boulanger-White

July 12,1959-August 24,2009

Holy Crap. I am so devastated deep in my soul. Deep places in my very solar plexes in spots where I didn’t know I could hurt. I think I know, actually am more acutely aware of what it feels like to have your heart being ripped from your chest. An ache I have never felt. Like part of me is being shredded apart.

My oldest sister (and Mom figure) died on August 24th. Yes. If you are keeping up with these things 2 major relatives in 5 weeks. I am still so deeply mourning my Father. I miss him so much. Sitting here typing about him makes me tear up. I have realized something. My children have maybe seen me cry 2-4 times in their whole lives. I’m not a crier…. I wasn’t until now. My tears are always sitting on the rim of my eyes. I cry for no real reason. I think of something I want to tell my Dad and each time the memories flood right in. Like every time I have to relive the fact that he isn't in my house, on my land and I can't crawl up on his bed and just sit and hold his hand and talk about the stupid parts of my day. He always wanted me to tell him about the puppies and the Mom's. Tears are everywhere. I feel like since my Father and sister died I’m a walking zombie. I can’t focus, I can’t concentrate.

My sister, Kim, Kenny (the groom) and Michael my brother-in-law

Kimmie dancing with Kenny. She was so proud this day.

I’m so alone. No one left who understands what being a Boulanger is. Boulanger is not simply a name. It is a way of life. It is a doing word. Boulanger’s always show up. Boulanger’s always come together during any crisis no matter how much we might be mad at each other. For all intensive purposes “Boulanger” is a verb. I tried talking to my youngest sister, Bonne about our heritage. She was too young. Boulanger means nothing to her. I don’t think it is something you can make another person appreciate or understand. I can tell her what it means to me but she won’t feel it in her core like I do. It seems like when I try to convey to the kids about my Mom there is this mist in front of their eyes. You can read about someone but unless you hear their laugh, or hear them talk you are missing the essence of the person.

I wonder if this is how it is supposed to feel when you are really old (not young like me of course) and everyone you love dies before you?? My sister just turned 50. That is young. Really young. Her big thing was that she out lived our Mother (died at 45) and she made it to the age of 50. Her second wish was that she could dance at her son’s wedding which she did. July 25th she danced. She danced with her son and she danced with her husband.

You know, I’m having a serious crisis of faith. I wonder why God would allow this to happen.?? Then I think about people who lose their whole family in fires or car accidents and I understand that is worse for sure. My beef is the amount of family I am actually left with. Not much. There are 4 Boulanger kids left. No Mom, no dad and No big sister. The older sister I’m left with, now that Kimmie is not here, has no morals and we don’t speak. Not every family is perfect I know. I’m certainly NOT perfect but I do like to live my life as if “I’m better than that” philosophy. My brother, Tommy lives in Renton, Washington and has 3 kids and 3 grandkids. We don’t get to see each other often enough.
You know the 8 nights I spent in the hospital’s parking garage left me A LOT of time to think. No Internet and no computer left me with nothing else to do but think about stuff before my 4 Tylenol Pm’s would kick in. I’m sad. I’m sad that my Mom didn’t get to see any of my kids, I’m sad when people have a Mother and chose not to be involved with her. My sister’s passing has taught me that I always need to end every conversation with people I care about to say “I love you” before hanging up.

I was Kim’s last phone call. Happened the night before her heart attack. She phoned me at 11:40 ish. She phoned me because she was frustrated that the nurses “had not given her anything for her pain” and she was greatly distressed and in agony. My final words to her were “What room are you in? I’ll take care of it.” She then told me the nurse was there and she would call me in the morning when she woke up. I didn’t tell her I loved her, not because I didn’t. I just assumed this hospitalization would be like all the others. She goes into the hospital they pump her with antibiotics and she goes home until MRSA gets her again. I know that regrets don’t fix things. But my regret hopefully will be turned into an action. Never finish a call without saying “I love you more.”

If you know me you know I’ve been dreaming of my tattoo. The one I can’t get and stay married with.. I have decided I don’t want it to say “Love never fails” because it does all of the time. Instead… I want my tattoo to say simply “I remember.”

Kimmie with her best friends, Ziggy and Harley

Rest in Peace Kimmie. I remember...

Where are my angels?

Where are my angels?

I’m not asking this to be an ass or a pain or in vain? I mean it with all my heart. Don’t we all grow up thinking that we have a guardian angel hovering just above us making sure things are going the way they are supposed to? I grew up and really believed that I was going to lead a charmed life because well… I had angels. They loved me; they watched over me and protected me.
I realize now that my angels must be on an extended vacation or that I have been such a bad person they left me because NO ONE is watching over me. NO ONE. I'm all alone now. Oh, Heather, that is blasphemy right? I don’t care. I’m having a crisis of faith. My Dad died.. (Yes, we all know that. I’m not talking about that, just mentioning it has been little more than a month.) I’m asking you, where are my angels?

I have been given more that I can bare. MORE than I can bare, get it I'm Not Job from the bible. I don’t know how I can be more broken. I’m literally breaking down. It is hard to lift my eyes they are so tired let alone to walk and accept this proudly. I have spent 4 days now sleeping in my car in the hospital's parking lot. Tonight I’m “styling.” I’m staying in a van versus my little Hyundai. I'm planning on taking enough sleeping pills where I can sleep with my body in the car and my legs sticking out. Gets to a point of exhaustion where it doesn’t matter. It’s all good. I Can’t leave my sister and sleep some where farther away. What if she wakes up? I want to be the second face she sees so if that means I sleep in the parking lot and wash my hair in the labor and delivery bathroom that is what I’ll do. I roll that way. All for family. The Boulanger way.

I have tried hard to be brave for my nieces and nephew. I have tried to be “stoic” and not cry. Think positively everyone. We can do this. I do however recognize this is the hospital where my most beloved sister lays. I’m an orphan and have had my oldest sister, Kim act as a “Mom” figure for me. Let me explain something I don’t really fully understand myself. When I’m scared, stressed, freaked or confused all it takes is for me to hear Kim's voice on the other phone and whatever I have been holding in comes barreling out. Just the sound of her voice on the phone saying “Heddi, what is going on?” comforts me. She is my person. The person you don't decide to be the person. They are the safe place. You hear their voice and know you can surrender all that is in your heart. She will know instinctively/intuitively that stuff is going on and always phones me when I need her the most.

She had cancer some 5 odd years ago. My Double radical mastectomy sister, Kim. She has been so sick since then. Not from a reoccurrence of cancer but infections followed by infections. She complains incessantly about how she hates taking the chemo pills everyday because they make her feel like she has the flu but she has dutifully taken them so she could stay cancer free. Infection free… not so much. We just had a surprise 50th birthday in July for her. Oh man, she had so many fans there at her party. She got more loot than a 50 year old woman should get. LoL. My sister is the corner stone of our whole family. She keeps things rolling along.

What do you do when the cornerstone of your house collapses? You crumble to your knees? You fall down and don’t get up? Why can’t I be that selfish? Let go and leave it to others? Why do I have to always be the grown up? I want to cry and stomp my feet and scream and never stop… WHY>????

She switched chemo pills recently and started feeling better. What did she do when she was finally feeling better? She came down and spent a week with me. She chose to come down and be with me the minute she felt better. I am so blessed to have her in my life. She is my sister, my mother and my friend. She always allies with me, always has my back and is a believer in our most sacred Boulanger heritage. We are a dying breed and we love to talk about what being a Boulanger means to us.

She is the person who holds me together when my husband can’t. When it takes a woman’s hand, someone to kick my butt when I need it. (She would never say “butt” out loud. She is prim and proper and Yes, I’m sure we are the same blood line.) She is everything a girl could aspire to be. She loves her family fiercely. As lady like as she is, she would claw out your eyeballs if you came for one of the family. She is protective. She is the mother looking after her cubs. She is emotional, cries easily and loves everyone. She is my role model; she puts the best foot forward. People either love her or hate her but she is real. If everyone loves you I don't think you are making a difference. You aren't living.

Why all this Kimmie talk? These thoughts should have been expressed here so much earlier. She is “My person.” If you don’t know what I mean I don’t care. My person. She is my person. She is also right now lying in a hospital bed and I believe brain dead. I’ve been sleeping in my car for the past 4 days in the hospital parking lot. No, not looking for sympathy really, just can’t bear to leave the lot. I’m thinking she will wake up right when I leave. I can’t have that. My person needs to see me. I need to see her. I sit in the waiting room day after day waiting for my allotted 15 minute turn at seeing her. It is so discouraging. I started out with such faith that God knew how much I could handle, he knew I just lost my Dad and am walking such a thin line mentally. He and his angels have given up on me. They don’t care about me because I’m at the end of my rope. My sister comes to Kaiser for an infection is up and talking and they find her a half hour later neither breathing or heart beating. We don’t know how long it was between the half hour of being scene last and being found in that state. We have been told that it only took one turn at the paddles and she came back. (They explained this was the good part… Only having to use the paddles once.) Oh, how hopeful. We are Boulanger’s and we beat the odds. We always do. Don’t we?

God he knows. He knows how much I love her. He knows how much we all still need her. He knows how much I’m alone when she dies and yet she hangs on a ventilator and feeding tubes and I can’t stand not to hope. No one will say out loud what we are all thinking. That she is no longer living in the body being held together by a feeding tube and a ventilator. It is too scary a thought. She has three kids and a husband that need her. NEED HER.

Instead we talk quietly around it, afraid if we verbalize what everyone is thinking we might jinx the miracle. The miracle her husband and we so desperately need. But, I don’t believe in miracles. Suppose it has been a long time coming. Who can say they have seen a real miracle? I mean a real miracle? Not even so sure about what I believe about prayer right now. I have lost so much. I suppose it is really conceited for me to wonder what I have done/haven’t done that has made the ones I love around me die. Would God really kill my sister and cause her family to suffer to teach me a lesson? Would he take a mother to teach a sister a lesson? I don’t think that is true yet I can’t shake the feeling I’m supposed to be learning something. I’m desperate for any clue as to why. WHY? Does anyone have an answer? I’ll grasp straws. I’ll roll the dice. At this point I’d just about do anything to make tomorrow not happen. I don’t want to go to the “family meeting.” I want to scream so loud. I want to run away. Today I actually contemplated starting a scene so I could drive away and not look back. I can’t do that because we Boulanger’s, we stick together. Since we are almost instinct, we best keep to our kind. I don’t need any more prayers. God is not listening. He…