*Insert Expletive Here*

Tonight my parents asked to Skype with me together, odd seeing as they're separated but the said they wanted to meet my host parents. Okay cool. Right after I introduce my 11 year old brother they drop the worse bomb that I was fearing. My grandfather is dead. Having never met my fathers dad Poppy, as I fondly call him, was ultimately the best grandfather anyone could have. He didn't say much but he was very smart and a brilliant mechanic. I loved going fishing wit him and as I sit here writing this the fact that I will never do that again hit my line a ton of bricks. I should have stayed home. I knew he didn't have long but I thought maybe he could make it until I came home. 283 days to short. He had stage 4 esophageal cancer but they said it was possible he could live with it. Mon said everyone was there with him when he passed and the fact that I wast kills me. I can't go to the funeral which hurts more. He told my mom that he wanted me to stay here and keep studying and I'm so thankful that I went to see him one more time before I left. You think that you know the pain of losing a loved one. Uncle, friend, but then you lose one when you are literally half way across the world and you can't do anything and it brings a whole new level of pain.