The Woman Who Sees a Green Rainbow
Richard and Eleanor rented the second floor of an old Victorian house in the Haight-Ashbury district of San Francisco that had never been remodeled. It had become cluttered. In Eleanor’s room there were tables full of all kinds of plants, and shelves of little toy figures and dolls and books. Richard admitted that, at the end, she pretty much became a hoarder. They had four beloved dogs that were always part of our visits. Richard and Eleanor were the nicest old hippie couple you could ever meet, full of character and stories, like when Eleanor lived in a house with Janis Joplin somewhere in Noe Valley for a while during her younger days.
On my first visit to see Eleanor, she lay in her bed covered in blankets. The four small dogs were all lying around her, two of which were getting old themselves. She smiled brightly, delighted with my presence as if we were old friends. She shooed a couple of the dogs off and asked me to sit by her. Eleanor spoke very well, and she always responded to any question or interaction with no hesitation. She had the innocence of a child and the intelligence of a woman. The first day I played songs for her, and we had a wonderful time. I played old songs at first, but when I saw how she loved the tone and emotion in the music, as I do, I played some of my own compositions. She didn’t just listen; she closed her eyes and meditated on the music, and she was part of it. She said the songs were beautiful and sustained her through the days. She sometimes shared images and memories that came to her mind after the songs.
“She said the songs were beautiful and sustained her through the days.”
We also talked about her relationship with God. She believed in God and heaven on a very personal, intrinsic level. She believed in a very spiritual way, connecting her to nature, art and to life. On some visits, Richard brought out a book that featured great artists’ paintings of dogs, animals and nature, and we all looked through them together. During each visit I said a prayer with Eleanor.
During many visits we sat at the table in the long, narrow kitchen, which held a variety of colorful and artistic objects, like a dream catcher, rocks and plants. Eleanor sat in her wheelchair, I sat nearby, and Richard would sit with the dogs on the floor, giving them treats. Richard participated in the visits, making coffee, and ensuring Eleanor was comfortable. Richard also loved music, and sometimes requested songs, like ‘Hallelujah’ by Leonard Cohen. One day when I came to the door Richard told me that Eleanor had asked him eagerly the day before, “When is the man with the green rainbow above his head coming back?”
“Look at her face. It’s shining at me, did you see it?”
Often Eleanor’s statements didn’t make logical sense, and Richard helped to interpret what these meant, or determine whether they were something real or imagined. This was because she sometimes had ‘hallucinations’. In her room there was a little tree and she would ask me if I saw the birds in the tree. Richard said that at night she often became paranoid and upset over the things she imagined, and for a while this was a stressful burden on Richard. She often imagined there were intruders. During my visits she sometimes began to cry suddenly. Richard said she was doing this more toward the end, which is not necessarily a bad thing. I thought of this like kids that act out in a family. In many ways it’s healthy because they feel free and safe to experiment, be themselves, express their feelings, deal with consequences and forgive. Eleanor’s tears usually quickly passed, and more often than not, she expressed joy and care for others.
I visited on the day before she passed away. She lay in bed and could barely move, but she could talk. She smiled and looked right into me – the same as always. After we had talked and prayed, Richard asked me to play a song. I wanted to play something that soothed both of them, so once again I played “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” because it has such beautiful imagery of heaven. I played my best for them. Richard said with utter delight, “Look at her face. It’s shining at me, did you see it?” I said no, I wasn’t looking, but I could feel it. He asked me to play the same song again, and I did. Richard cried as they deeply communed together again through the music, and he was very thankful. He took down the picture from the wall that she had painted of a blue bird and showed it to her. She was so sweetly appreciative of his thoughtfulness.
That night Richard said their smallest dog, Ripple, woke him up in the middle of the night, and he went in to check on her. He said she was still warm and must have just passed. They had adopted Ripple as a rescue. Ripple’s former owner had passed away, and Richard felt this dog knew from experience something was wrong.
Richard was able to spend quality time with his brother and they drove together to Eleanor’s burial in Guerneville. They took all the dogs with them, as they couldn’t be left at home. Without any signs of illness, Eleanor’s own dog died in the car on the way. Richard felt that the dog must have wanted to go with her owner, and he arranged for her beloved dog to be buried near her. I will never forget that sweet experience with this woman who saw a green rainbow.
Sold Out hospice stories on our hospice blog
Please feel free to contact us with any questions regarding hospice care
