Paying Respect to Elizabeth Edwards

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I first met Elizabeth Edwards in 2006, when she came to San Francisco on a book tour and asked to meet with a group of local bloggers.  The news of her passing sent me reeling this afternoon, and I have thoughts to share on her and how we became unlikely email and Facebook friends, but right now, I am just too sad.

This is what I wrote about our first meeting four years ago, before her husband became a candidate and then had a spectacular fall from grace.  This is how it all began…

October 2006

What happens when the thing you fear most comes true?  How would you cope with the death of a child or cancer?   Who would you turn to and how would you survive?  These questions are at the core of Elizabeth Edwards’ new autobiography Saving Graces:  Finding Solace and Strength from Friends and Strangers. In her book, Mrs. Edwards recounts painful, heart-wrenching episodes in her life — from the death of her beloved, beautiful sixteen-year-old son, Wade, to her own battle with breast cancer. Mrs. Edwards lays bare her rawest emotions, thoughts, and feelings with a depth and candor that disarmed me, made me think, and made me weep for her.  In the end, she was not asking for pity, but offering hope.  If you think about it, that is the most extraordinary gift that anyone can give, and one that her book provides in spades.

Some local mom bloggers were invited to meet privately with Mrs. Edwards, wife of Senator John Edwards.  I was fortunate to be included in this group.  Beth from Silicon Valley Moms Blog organized the event, and not only did I get to meet this extraordinary woman, I also got to meet some of my favorite bloggers–Charlene of CrazedParent, Stefania of CityMama and Mary of Mom Writes.  It was really wonderful to meet the lovely women behind the words that I read daily.

We were told beforehand that we could each ask Mrs. Edwards one question, and so I had the image of this being something like a press conference, with everyone jockeying for a turn to ask her something, but it was nothing like that.  We met in a hotel conference room in downtown San Francisco, and we were all chatting when Mrs. Edwards came in, and at first she just blended in with the group.  I was immediately struck by the ease with which she inserted herself into the group, and how much she seemed to be just like the women in the room.  At first I thought she was just another blogger I hadn’t met yet.

She went around and shook hands with each person and welcomed us.  I felt like I knew her when she looked me in the eye and I was put at ease by at her gracious, warm presence.  Maybe it was because I’ve seen her on television a number of times, maybe it was because I stayed up until 2 am the night before weeping and reading her book; maybe it was because she reminded me of friends of mine.  I don’t know.  Whatever it was, it was like meeting an old friend.

We all sat around a big conference table, and had a discussion.   When askedDscf0783 why she wanted to meet bloggers, she answered that she reads blogs and that she wanted to have a dialogue with real people, ones who hadn’t made up their minds about what they were going to write before they met her and framed questions to fit the story.  She had been briefed beforehand with short bios of each of us, and it was astonishing that she remembered details about various people.  She seemed to be as curious to meet us as we were to meet her.  She was friendly and engaging, and asked us questions as well as answering ours.

We talked about a number of topics, from the inevitable discussion of her husband’s plans to run (“he’s thinking about it”) to what it’s like to have two sets of children who are nearly twenty years apart.  She mentioned often feeling like the “odd man out” in her younger kids playgroups, since she is considerably older than the other mothers, plus people can be intimidated by “the Senator thing.”   The Washington crowd was a bit older than she is and the moms of her younger children are generally younger.

She also said that in Washington, people tell her, “You’re not like anyone we’ve ever met before.”  Her answer is, “There are whole towns across America of people like me.”  Apparently, people in Washington don’t get out much, since we were sitting in a room full of smart, funny women who were in many ways, just like her, regardless of politics or wealth or background.  What we had in common was far greater than what set us apart.

She said that she enjoyed meeting bloggers because we’re not like the mainstream press, who will ask her the same question thirty times and the answer never changes (“he’s thinking about it”).  One blogger asked if she wanted him to run, and she said simply, but with conviction, “Yes, I do.”

She believes in her husband’s voice and vision, in his sincerity in wanting to make a difference. Two years ago, I voted for John EDscf0789dwards in the California primary, though by the time the primary was held the press had all but declared John Kerry the Democratic nominee. I voted for him because I believe that he is the increasingly rare politician who is politics out of a desire to serve the public, rather than having the public serve his own ego and ambition.  The impression that I had of him two years ago was reinforced by meeting his wife, who would have to sacrifice a great deal to help him accomplish this.  They would have to leave behind a beautiful new home, a comfortable and fulfilling family life, and any shred of privacy they might now enjoy.  She has no political ambitions of her own, but understands full well the impact that the spouse has on the perception of the candidate, and is willing to do her part, whether it’s meeting big donors at receptions, thinking twice about commenting on blogs, or doing television interviews.

When another blogger asked her how this was different from her normal life, she said, “I wear a lot more make-up than I would at home.  There is no eyeliner in my real-life.”

One of the things that resonated most with me was when she said that losing a child caused her to really evaluate what she was doing with her life and where she was headed.  I think that is something we should all take heed of, and not wait for a tragedy to teach us.  I have been hugging my son more since I read this book, and appreciating more the profound joy he finds in the smallest things, and the everyday blessing he is to Frank and me.

I know that there were a couple of skeptics in the room, who wondered what her motivations were in meeting with us, but by the end, we were all won over by her warmth, her candor, and her humor.  We all felt like we made a friend, and wished she could come out to dinner with us afterward.  I think she wanted to go with us, too.  She patiently signed every book and posed for pictures with us, despite the warnings that she would be late for her next engagement.  We were so fortunate to be given this opportunity to spend time with her and get to know her a little better.

I think each person in the room took away something different from meeting Mrs. Edwards, some little validation or new knowledge.  Enoch (our intrepid lone daddy blogger in attendance), Mary, Beth, Ana, Kim, Charlene. and Stefania have posted their thoughts and I hope you read them for their perspectives.  For me, reading her book and this meeting reaffirmed my belief that even out of the depth of despair, we can find what we need in other people if we open our hearts.  We find it from our our families, our best friends, our neighbors, and from our community, and sometimes even from people we never laid eyes on.  During the past few years, many of the women in that room have done this for me,  perhaps without even knowing it.  Sometimes, even a total stranger can give us exactly what we need to make it through another day…a little humor, a little compassion, or just by listening or reading what we have to say without judgment.

I hope that if you are reading this, you will read her book, regardless of your politics or what you think you already know about their family. Just be sure to have a lot of tissues handy.  You will need them.

Photos by me and Enoch Choi.

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