Yesterday, Saturday 21 November, my PepPep Hoffman passed away in West Virginia. He had been ill for quite a while now and his health had been deteriorating rapidly in the last few days.
We are so close to the end of our Peace Corps service, but not close enough for me to be there for the funeral in Pennsylvania. It will most likely be the Saturday after Thanksgiving, two days before Cale and I fly to America.
Part of me is torn. I could get on plane tomorrow (the only flight to America between now and the flight we take on the 30th) and be home in time for the funeral, but what I would have to do to make that flight would be insane. Also, if I flew out tomorrow, I wouldn't be coming back to Samoa. Instead of an end of good-byes and planned events, I would do frenzied packing and make a made dash to a plane. I would miss my school's Prize-Giving and any opportunities to say good-bye to anyone here. I would leave work unfinished. My textbook wouldn't be done, the two school computer labs wouldn't be completely prepared for next year, I wouldn't know if the magazine was successfully printed.
My mom insists that staying in Samoa is the obvious choice. She was torn about even telling me, knowing that it would cause me more stress and I wouldn't be able to do anything about it. I am glad that she told me though. She says that Grandma is busy with the funeral preparations today, but I can call her this week. I would have felt like such a jerk if I hadn't been told and never called Grandma during this time.
So once again, here I am on the other side of the world, helpless.