Look for the Rainbows

After my father died, and my husband left, the kids and I were reeling in grief and bone-burning loss. We always took big trips over spring break to see the people we love in various places, so in a typical year we would go to Orlando to see my niece, Austin to see my sister, Utah to see my parents and other sister, etc.

This year, the Muir Woods popped into my head and I felt like it would be healing to all of us to walk in an ancient forest among the redwoods.

I didn’t know why, but that it seemed right, and I was trying to follow my instinct and do the things I felt compelled to do, even if I didn’t know why.

I have two dear friends who live in Northern California, Zar and Tanya, who I met when we all went to school in Paris together in 1990, then went backpacking around Europe together. Zar, Tanya and I couldn’t be more different as people. Zarafshan appropriately means sparkle in Hindu, and Zar is definitely sparkly in a different way than me. She grew up in Pakistan and speaks seven languages. She is smart and gorgeous and bawdy and hilarious. She is a mathematics and business whiz who now lives with her husband and two adorable wild red-headed children near San Francisco. Tanya is one of the most gentle, kind, loving people I’ve ever met. She’s also really good at organizing. When we backpacked pre-internet, it was Tanya who went to the payphones at the train stations to find us places to stay, while Zar and I watched the backpacks, making up names for ourselves like Peaches and Cream and Kibbles and Bits and giggling at our own ridiculous jokes. They are grounded and healing and wonderful.

The kids and I flew into San Francisco, and I had made a dinner reservation at some fancy restaurant. One of the things I was sad about when my ex left was no more of our fabulous date nights. My ex was a foodie and delighted in researching amazing restaurants and we had many an epic transformational wine-filled nights together. I decided I would have to continue these journeys on my own with the kids, but upon arrival, it occurred to me that the kids don’t really enjoy sitting at fancy dinners, and they’d rather have mac-and-cheese or pizza than truffle mushroom risotto.

And they don’t drink wine.

And I realized, I too would rather eat pizza with the kids and laugh and play than go sit at a restaurant for fancy food. Excellent revelation! I cancelled our reservation and we had pizza.

So we went to wine country on my birthday with Zar and Tanya and the kids. And as we drove through the gorgeous vineyards, we saw not one, not two, but SEVEN RAINBOWS! SEVEN!!!!

On my birthday. MAGIC!

It seemed like a personal message to me, from my Dad, or the universe, or the whomever it is that makes rainbows, that everything was going to be okay, even though I couldn’t imagine how. 

I had not seen a rainbow at this point in about 15 years. One day in 2002, skiing with ex, I had an epic rainbow day where I saw so many rainbows I thought the rapture was happening and it looked like I was skiing on rainbow glitter because it reflected in the snow. I should have known then that my ex was a stick in the mud when he rolled his eyes and said, “I’m sick of rainbows”.

Gasp. Who says such a thing? A stick in the mud, that’s who.

A few years before that, Kim and I had gone to visit my ancestral castle on the Isle of Skye in Scotland and saw 13 rainbows in one day. We kept trying to find the pot of gold at the end, but all we did was laugh our asses off as we chased them all over. Which I guess was the real pot of gold—our laughter and love for each other. Kim loves rainbows as much as me.

Flash forward, and it had been many many years with no rainbows.

But here I was, on my 49^th birthday, grieving so much loss, and I was screaming in the car and yelling for Zar to pull over so I could take a picture.

Annabelle said, “Mom, stop screaming, you’re scaring Zar and Tanya.” I tried to tone it down, but I was high on rainbows! What can I say? I get excited when I see a rainbow.

Later, I told my friend Courtney about the day, and asked her if it was extraordinary that I screamed when I saw a rainbow like someone else might scream seeing Mick Jagger.

She quietly said, “Maybe.”

I said, “Well, what do you do when you see rainbows?”

She said, “I might smile to myself., maybe I might take a picture, but I don’t scream and jump up and down.”

Hmmm, okay.

So maybe I was overreacting, but I truly madly deeply love rainbows.

The next day we went to the Muir Woods, and guess what?

We saw so many more rainbows. They were shooting everywhere through the woods. They were shooting off the kids like cat whiskers, shooting through the trees, dancing in my hair like jewels.

Everything in that forest looked like it was glowing and unfurling and wrapping me in beauty.

It was like an acid flashback—if I had ever done acid—which I haven’t—but I imagine it would be like this—the glowing colors, the furling fronds, the flowers looked like they were blooming right in front of my eyes–it was that powerful.

I had my Rumi book of poetry with me, and I read lines of poetry while we walked among these massive gorgeous trees, the smell of redwood and moss everywhere, neon green ferns gracefully waving at our feet, and I thought, “I don’t need a house, I could live right here next to these magnificent trees and be very happy.”

I still feel high from that day a year later!

AND

we saw ANOTHER RAINBOW the next day.

This one was like a massive pour through the rainclouds in such vibrant colors—it was the first time I saw the purple in a rainbow so thick and bright.

Now that I think about it, that particular rainbow looked like a RAINBOW WATERFALL out of the sky!

We were on a quest to see the Jules Feiffer waterfall in Big Sur, as waterfalls are another thing that heals my soul. We drove a long way on winding roads above steep ocean cliffs, surrounded by one of my favorite smells—pine trees and ocean mixed together. We got to the waterfall and hiked down the path, and looked with excitement, only to find the waterfall was a small trickle. The kids were exasperated with my quest to see the trickle, but we are still laughing about it a year later, and after the trip was over, Annabelle said it was her favorite part. She loved driving through the dark in the rain on ocean cliffs, through farmlands, listening to Nancy Drew on audio book while the rain pelted our car—after seeing the massive rainbow of course.

Rainbows and waterfalls and poetry are all things that heal me, but the best part was spending time with the ones I love, creating memories that can never be taken away.

When we came home, I decided to start teaching a Rainbow Unicorn class at my kids school as an after-school class, which became so popular that it’s now my summer camp. I’m still teaching it. The kids and I show up in glitter rainbow clothing and I can completely indulge my over-enthusiasm for rainbows and all things magical with tiny humans who share my enthusiasm.

I hope my kids take away from the trip, that when we need support, it’s all around us: in the people we love, the trees and the sea, waterfalls and rainbows—we just have to open our eyes.