Don’t wait to love me when I’m gone

“If I had my life to live over… I would seize every minute... look at it and really see it ... live it...and never give it back.” Erma Bombeck.

Kenyans have peculiar calling habits, Michael Joseph allegedly said. It’s true too. Why does someone with enough credit to actually make a call, “flash” you? Why does someone call you and then ask, “Wewe ni nani?” Why do we just hang up the phone without saying “bye” when we end a conversation with a loved one? Peculiar calling habits.

Yet these last few months I have attended several funerals to believe that we also have peculiar habits when it comes to laying the dead to rest. I don’t think this one is particularly unique to Kenyans but generally most Africans are victims. For instance, we never made time for tea, or even to attend someone’s special days when they were alive, but when they are dead, we feel compelled to show up for every funeral meeting.

We won’t send a donation towards the hospital bill of a person who is terminally ill but feel “compelled” to dig into our pockets to give them a “fitting send-off”. We will say we don’t have enough money to buy a loved one a dress, pair of shoes or jewellery when they are with us, but spare no expense to do so when they can no longer appreciate it.

We say things like it is “unAfrican” to give a woman flowers but will ensure that when she passes, we plunder every florist to adorn her funeral day. How many men have eulogised a woman as “beloved wife” on a marble headstone when they never so much as said, “I love you” when she was alive. Sad, isn’t it?

LOVE ME NOW

Now I’m African enough to realise that someone’s death is an important rite of passage that must be acknowledged and even celebrated with some pomp and circumstance. While I also believe that all this needs to happen within our means, my biggest bone of contention is that most of it is being done when it is already too late — for the deceased person anyway.

Unless the clothes, shoes, flowers, money and time are in some way of comfort to the living; a sort of “doing right” by their loved one. Yet if we really want to do right by people, shouldn’t that effort also be extended to them when they can appreciate it?

A friend who had treated herself to a holiday with her family told me these most poignant words last week, “People do special things for someone when they are not here to see it. Don’t wait until I’m gone to love me”. 

She was right, and she’s the inspiration for this piece: So love me when I can gasp with joy at the sight of the flowers you have bought, when I can sink my nose into the bouquet and appreciate it’s heavenly scent. Love me when I can lean across the table from you and hang onto your every word responding with a smile, a laugh, a joke. Love me when I can answer you, when I can say “thank you, you shouldn’t have”.

Love me when I can wear the dress you have bought, twirl around in it feeling like a princess and then take a “selfie” for my profile picture. Love me when I can love you back.

But it doesn’t end there, as my friend reminded me, we need to treat ourselves in special ways while we are here. Don’t be the man who is literally “killing himself” at his job so he can leave an inheritance of plots for his children. They might have no use for it, preferring to sell it and then use the money to buy a toy. Enjoy your money too, enjoy the toil of your labour.

Don’t be the woman who spends all her time in pursuit of a career at the expense of relationships. That career won’t hold you when you are old and weak. Your loved ones will. Invest in people. Don’t save the special dishes, linen, clothes for others. You are special enough for all your special things. In the end, it all boils down to this: living and loving while we have the chance.