CHAPTER 17
“Enjoy life today. Yesterday is gone, and tomorrow may never come.” – Alan Coren
Death is inevitable. It will happen to us and everyone we know. None of us doubt that, and yet it doesn’t seem to inform our priorities.
A loved one could die tomorrow and we would have no way of knowing that it was coming. The same is true for you. Ask yourself, “If this were to be the last time I saw this person, how would I want it to go down?” I strongly believe in living each moment as if it were my last – because, for all we know, it may be.
Death isn’t the only change we experience. A friend might move far away, or you could simply grow apart, so it’s important to enjoy things while they are taking place. I believe there are two reasons for regret: either we acted in a way that went against our values, or we took something for granted.
Both of these occur when we fail to set conscious priorities. A good place to start is by prioritising people and our experiences with them. When we are having a conversation, whether business or personal, we need to turn our phone to silent, ignore messages and simply tune into the person we are with. We have chosen to spend time with someone so we need to make the most of that interaction. No matter how often we see them, or who they might be, we should never take it for granted that they will always be around to interact with us in that way.
Living in the now is something I have always done, but I have found that since Gugs passed I am more focused on my decision to live in the present. When I first moved back home three months after Gugs died, my DStv service had been disconnected because it had been linked to his bank account, which was of course suspended. The day before I moved back in, I hosted a Sunday lunch with the family. That same day there happened to be a big cricket match on TV. Some of the family who are cricket fans were frustrated because they couldn’t watch the match and scrambled to find a way to tune into the game from their cellphones – that great thief of time. When I realised that some of them were less interested in welcoming Lelethu and me back home than catching the match, I felt sad and disappointed. I blurted out, “Wow! Are you guys here to spend time with us and welcome us home, or to watch cricket?”
The sad truth is that we often allow technology to distract us from meaningful interactions we could be having with those most important to us. I suggest not having the TV on when someone visits – it just takes you out of the present moment, stealing the opportunity for you to have a meaningful connection. As I know all too well, your visitor might not live to see tomorrow.
One thing I am truly grateful for is the way the loss of Gugs has magnified what living in the now means for me. After that Sunday lunch and in the first year after Gugs’s passing, I chose not to renew the DStv contract. I played DVDs for Lelethu every now and then. When I got home at night, instead of turning on the TV, she and I would spend time together, building puzzles or playing with her other toys. This allowed me to soak up every moment with her, to be in the present and experience her at her current stage of development. My aim is that one day, when she is all grown up, I will have no regrets about not spending quality time with her.
When it comes to learning to live in the present, motherhood has been an incredible gift. Young children only live in the present moment – they don’t know how to do anything else.
A year after that Sunday lunch, I decided to connect Netflix and YouTube so that Lelethu could watch kids’ shows on TV. This can be a relief on nights when I have to juggle many roles and the kids’ shows keep her occupied when I need them to. However, she knows just how to bring me back to the present. She often sings and dances along to the shows and, in no time at all, ropes me in to dance with her. In these moments, no matter how busy I am, I never refuse. In a year’s time, she may no longer be into this kind of thing – I have to be part of these moments and enjoy them while they happen.