Tales By Midnight #5 – Confessions of a procrastinator
There is this picture of my cousin.
It is beautiful in every way that you can think of. It is a picture of her sitting on a half made bed. Her big, round eyes twinkling from the smile that’s occupying half of her face.
You can almost taste the delight she felt in that moment the picture was taken.
She’s wearing a pretty dress and her hair falls sweetly to the side.
It is a happy picture.
But each time I see it, my heart aches a little.
It is a reminder of delayed promises and tears that wouldn’t stop falling.
I wish everyday that I called when I could. Actually, when I should.
Why don’t we do the things we do when we need to do them?
I remember the first time I heard that she had Sarcoma. I remember racing to google it because I didn’t know what it meant. I remember my chest tightening as my heart and lungs took turns ceasing. I simply couldn’t breathe.
She had messaged me on Instagram and I remember at the time thinking how absurd it was because it took me 2 days to reply to her “Hi”
What was I really doing?
“Oreva, I have sarcoma. It’s a form of cancer. Please pray for me”
I still have this weird ache in my chest every time I think about it.
Kome had this beautiful way of including and merging herself into your every plan. She did it so well that if you didn’t know her, it almost came off as clingy.
But that is the perspective that absence brings. Those weird, quirky, almost annoying things about her are the things I miss the most.
She had this awkward laugh that would ring in your chest and echo in your ears long after she stopped laughing.
I know now that my call wouldn’t have made a difference. She was going to die and that was out of my control.
“I would call you soon” I had said.
But I never did. Not in the next hour or a few days after.
And in a week, after procrastination had mercilessly stalled me and my excuses had worn me out, I dialed her number and all that greeted me was silence.
No laughter, no words, no life.
She was gone and I didn’t even get to say goodbye.
I didn’t pray for her like I had promised to.
I didn’t keep her company as I wanted to in those last days.
Regret is like spilled milk.
All I was left with was a heavy heart laden with what-ifs. I couldn’t turn back time.
There were no do overs.
Procrastination is based on the illusion that there would always be time. But the truth is you don’t have control over time and tomorrow isn’t always guaranteed.
Procrastination is a drug and I am a recovering addict.
That thing you said you would do later, I hope this somehow inspires you to do it now.