She grabbed my face and looked me in the eye and said, “I love you too. After a pause, for the first time, I said, ‘I love you, Elaine.’” Have a milkshake now and then why don’t you?” I didn’t want to wake you, but I’m glad you’re awake so I can say goodbye.” She opened her eyes and said, “Good morning, John.” I approached Elaine on her side of the bed and gently called her name. “Her eyes are closed, but she’s been awake for a while.” This morning, I tiptoed into the bedroom and woke her male caretaker who was sleeping beside Elaine on the bed. Typically, I would step quietly into Elaine’s bedroom to wake her caretaker so that he or she could deactivate the alarm system and let me out. The next morning, I got up early to make my exit. He has a great line, which I always thought was a perfect description of me, ‘God give them wisdom that have it and those that are fools, let them use their talents.’ If that isn’t how I made my way through life, I don’t know what is.” He was a clown who drank and made people laugh. Without hesitation, she said: “Feste in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. I asked Elaine about her favorite role over the years.
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“I’m sorry I never had a chance to see you in the play.” He’s a funny guy, but he’ll go for the gags and that will kill that show,” she said. “Well, I think Glenn will be pretty good. “You’re kidding? Who’s in it?” she asked. “There’s a new high-powered revival of Edward Albee’s A Delicate Balance headed for Broadway this fall,” I announced. To which Elaine replied, “Oh my god, there’s that line again.”Īt the kitchen table, Elaine asked me to read to her from the Times. “OK, do you want to put your arms around my neck,” he said. With that, one of her caretakers - a rather beefy young guy - came into the bedroom to transfer her to the wheelchair. I hope he doesn’t know something I don’t,” she said. The Hospice chaplain stopped by today, and I sent him away. Getting in and out of bed and into the wheelchair hurts like hell. “I’ve got a boatload of aches and pains, John. They said the only way to pull that off was to agree to hospice. “You know I’m on hospice, don’t you?” she said. “Are you kidding, who would want to? It’s got to be one of the most boring roles ever written,” she said sounding very much like her old self. “Did you ever play Marian the Librarian?” I asked. I had to step in and direct The Music Man at the university because a faculty colleague got sick,” I said. You’ve been on my mind a lot.” She reached out to touch me, stroking my arm and leg from her wheelchair. I took her hand and said, “It’s real good to see you Elaine. Her hair had recently been cut rather short. Other than her painfully obvious weight loss, Elaine actually looked pretty good. PHOTO BY FABRIZIO CONSTANTINI FOR THE NEW YORK TIMES “Why don’t you eat a milkshake now and then?”Įlaine Stritch in her Detroit condo. “God, you look good, but you’ve lost weight,” she said. She smiled broadly and seemed glad to see me, very glad to have a visitor. John, come here darling, let me get a good look,” she said.
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“Who’s that?” she asked as I walked into the bedroom. When I entered her bedroom, she was sitting up in bed and drinking some orange juice. The sad but not particularly surprising news was that Elaine was now under hospice care. Instrumental versions of old standards and Broadway show tunes were playing on the music channel on her television, giving the condo the feel of an upscale nursing care facility. When I arrived, she was asleep and the condo was very quiet. After my last visit, I had feared she might be on a path toward isolation, surrounding herself with just caretakers and her family.
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Her excitement pleased me because it made me feel she was still engaged and seeking interaction and stimulation. I had called every couple of weeks to check in and each time she urged me to visit. It was six weeks later in 2014 before I was able to make my final visit with Elaine. Elaine Stritch with John Bell during one of his visits.