Never put off what you can do today

I want to tell you about my friend called Pearl. But first, let me tell you about an obsession I have. I always read the obituary pages – not that we have many of them in our local newspapers.

Whenever I land on a copy of the Daily Nation, I seek them out. I am not obsessed with death; just with imagining what people’s lives were. I sit there, reading one obituary, and then spending 30 minutes imagining how the deceased lived, what kind of person they were, did they enjoy life or were they cautious, did they live out their dreams?

Sometime back, when I was going through hell, I would admire them, their freedom from the worries of the world – no rent to pay, no heartbreaks to nurse, no relatives to deal with, no loneliness. I have not yet overcome that obsession, but I no longer admire the dead.

Now, let me tell you about Pearl. She was a joy to her mother. When I met her mid-last year, she was suffering from a strange disease that affects the deeper layers of the skin. Her entire skin had peeled off and a new layer was growing back.

She was soft spoken and I admired her strength in the face of such a painful condition. Have you ever had the skin of your arm or little finger peel off? Do you remember how sensitive it felt when the wind blew or when it was too hot. Now, imagine what this beautiful sixteen-year-old girl felt in her entire body.

It had even affected her eyesight, and of course her immunity was down. But, her faith in God was unwavering. There was no moment – at least, when I was with her and her mother – when they questioned why God allowed her to suffer and not someone else. Not even when they had sold their property to treat the condition. They just drew closer to God and prayed like fanatics.

And He gave them comfort; the kind of which the world can never understand. They were happy and not worried, despite the bleak medical reports. God provided kind-hearted people who tried to help Pearl. She was on the path to recovery.

Then I got busy and we lost touch. Every time I got the urge to call, I would postpone it. Almost a year passed, and yet I got the urge on a weekly basis.

Last week, I called and asked her mother how Pearl was doing. “Pearl died in January,” she said. We both started crying. She had contracted flu, which progressed to pneumonia.

Why didn’t I call when I got the urge to? Now I spend my days imagining how this teenager would have lived her life. I am only comforted by the fact that she is with the Lord.