SEPTEMBER 3RD

Writing has become my best friend since living in Thailand. I don't need to wait for a response on the other end of an email. I don't get lost within a language barrier. And I don't need to worry about the 13 hour time difference between Southeast Asia and home.

The last afternoon I spent with my grandpa Darrell was at my niece McKenzie's birthday party. It was a few days before I left the United States in August. I had a feeling this would be the last time we would share each others company. I left the country knowing it was a possibility. The possibility is now an actuality. He passed away on Monday.

I am in rural Thailand. I live in a small village. There are no international calling cards to buy anywhere in town. There is one computer at school that has Internet. It is shared between 6 people. There is one Internet cafe in the village, and it is closed more than it is open. All computers in town have a dial-up modem and the connection is regularly lost.

These inconveniences are a small part of what makes life living in the developing world exciting and challenging all at the same time. But when reality hits and these inconveniences become barriers between you and loved ones - it makes life incredibly difficult. It is hard not to feel disabled.

I am half way across the world. It is at least 4 days of travelling to get home to Utah. I know my grandpa would want me to me stay here and finish the work that I have started. Would I be able to forgive myself if I were to? What truly matters most? There is nothing more important to me than my family and friends, and I would do anything to love and support them. What are we without the people we love? Maybe the best way to honor those we've lost is by continuing in our own goals, and pursuits of happiness? Even if doing so happens to be thousands of miles from home.