In death, I now recall birth. 

"Wash your hand gal, you gonna touch de momma cat and she mew baby, you hear?"

It has been many years ago, in Guyana, that I still remember Grandma calling me, telling me it was time.  

There was the smell of wood burning from our home's fireside, and Grandma sitting by the window. She was dangling her fingers outside, with a cigarette between them. 

She would tell me, "You is nurse, and me is the midwife."

I remember every cat that gave birth. There was always a little hospital for them. Well, it wasn't really little, but a large box lined with old clothing that was warm and soft, to birth on.  My responsibility was to sit next to the momma cat, stroking and speaking softly to her, until the pain of birth took it's course. 

There was always sadness to see the mother's pain at birth, but then, I see the little kittens squeezing out: helpless, cute and adorable.  I was always amazed and joyful at the same time to see this cycle of life continue. This was a moment for me; my family and my pets.  Dogs included. 

Now eight years ago, in a different country, we came upon a kitten; she was gray and white with an "M" on her forehead.  It was love at first sight.  We named her "Cupcake".  My Mama would always tease me saying, "Gal, what you doing, you givin' me a four-legged grandaughta with green eyes? Then she would pick Cupcake up and kiss her. 

As years went by, the little hospital for Cupcake was not for birth, but for sickness.  The large box lined with old clothing was replaced by the cold metal tables in the animal hospitals. The cycle of life was replaced by different diseases with an enlarged heart that was three times the normal size.  Yet, for eight years, Cupcake remained as a warm and loving pet with a spunky cleverness that never shown the illness that she inherited.  She was always a fighter, even in death.

Yes, I remember my sadness of a mother's pain to give birth, but my responsibility to Cupcake was to lie next to her, stroking her, and to speak to her softly while tears clouded my eyes knowing that the pain of life will take its normal course. 

This cycle of life is still amazing. There is always some form of joy and happiness that seems to come from pain.  In Cupcake, there was no new birth to come from pain, but only a birth of fond memories that will haunt and inspire me.

In the early morning I saw her eyes fighting her last breath while waiting for the rest of us to awake, so that she can say her last goodbye.

In life and in death she was always sweet and strong. 

I do not know what life will bring without her. It still hurts, this pain inside my heart.

It's hard to love and then let go.

Even in death, I now recall birth. 

Even in life, I now recall her strength.

Even in loving memories; with my tears, I can't help but to recall ... my Cupcake.

2003 by Ann Diamond.   All rights reserved.