Sunday, April 26--This Part Sucks

Well, today highlights the major drawback of living 6,772 miles from home. I woke up this morning to an email from my mom that my 89-year-old grandfather had passed away. Unfortunately, it will be too difficult and too costly to get home for Tuesday’s memorial service at his church in Florida. As a veteran of World War II, Granddad will be inurned in Arlington National Cemetery, in one of the columbaria he helped to design during his twelve years of service there as Facilities Manager. I know the funeral schedule is, unfortunately, very busy at Arlington, so it could be several weeks before his inurnment service. I hope that I will have enough notice of the date to make arrangements to go home and pay my respects.

Though I feel bad about not being able to attend Granddad’s memorial service, I feel worse about being so far away from my mom at this time. Historically, April has not been a kind month to our family, and I feel like I’ve abandoned her to deal with this latest emotional blow alone. I can call and talk to her on the phone, but it’s just not the same as being there to provide a real ear to bend and a real shoulder to cry on. In the past, she has proven that she is like a Timex—she can take a lickin’ and keep on tickin’, but I was always close enough before to see her resilience with my own eyes. I don’t like relying on a long-distance phone connection to judge whether she’s really doing okay or whether she’s trying to sound upbeat so I won’t worry. This part of living abroad sucks.