LIKE FALLING STARS

Dear Spike,

She’s a dainty orange tabby cat, so small she looks like a kitten. We call her Emma.

Emma was the runt of the litter. When we found her at the humane society, she weighed half a pound and was very sick. We brought her home and nursed her to health. She’s been a part of our family for five years, now.

Someday, my child, we’ll sit under the clear night sky and watch for falling stars. When we see one, we’ll make a wish. And at the moment, I think you’ll understand, as I do, that the very best things in life are like falling stars.

As it turned out there was only so much we could do for Emma. A few months ago, after a period in which she had been losing weight and hiding, for days at a time, in dark corners of our home, we took her to the veterinarian.

It turns out that although Emma grew into a small but beautiful adult cat, her kidneys didn’t keep up. They’re tiny little things, so small that the doctor could hardly find them when she felt under Emma’s belly.

The first time we nursed her to health with special kitten food and formula. The second time it was antibiotics, special food for cats with bad kidneys, medicine for nausea and weekly intravenous fluid treatments.

This time, I’m not sure how much more we can do. She’s stopped eating on her own. She spends most of her day sleeping on a towel in one of the bathroom cupboards. And we can’t even let her onto our bed, anymore, because she’s been having accidents.

At some point, and I fear that point may come soon, we’re going to have to say goodbye.

Most cats live for 10 or 15 years. Some purebreds live into their early 20s. Emma, if she’s fortunate, will live to be six.

One evening, a few summers back, your mother and I were at a concert on our college campus. The Band was Bela Fleck and the Flecktones. Toward the end of the show, the percussionist RoyEl was playing a solo set when a meteor flashed across the sky, right above the stage, so bright it lit up the entire crowd.

It was only just a matter of seconds — so brief that the musician, who had his eyes closed, didn’t even seem to notice.

But that moment was so beautiful. And it was made more so by its brevity.

I sure hope you get to meet Emma. It would be nice to have a photograph of you and her together.

More likely, I fear, is that her star will fall before yours appears. Death is part of life, albeit one we have trouble accepting.

More important, in any case, is the beauty that comes in between. Emma’s beauty was accentuated by her brevity and though it is hard to see her star fall, it makes her time here all the more special.

There is much beauty in this life, and the most beautiful things come and go quickly.

Whatever you do, keep your eyes open. I don’t want you to miss any of it.

Love,
dad