I have a lot of respect for Elizabeth Edwards. She handled her cancer with such dignity and I think acted with amazing grace when her husband turned out to be a lying, cheating, scum.
In December I got a copy of her book, "Saving Graces" through paperbackswap.com (if you haven't discovered this fantastic site, I recommend it). I started reading it, but didn't really give it much thought with all the craziness of Zac coming.
I picked it up again the other night, remembering that she lost her son, Wade, when he was 16. The chapters dealing with his death are profound and moving. Her words humble me.
The following is a message she wrote to a woman grieving the loss of her fiance. For some reason they really touched me and seemed like Elizabeth was speaking directly to me. I wanted to share them, since they brought me some comfort.
Grief is a long process of untangling ourselves from the physical reality of the person and from our expectations of our future with them. You will not, I imagine, decide one day that it is time, that you are ready, and then go out and find someone. You certainly won't do so because someone else, even someone with the best intentions like your mother, has decided it is time. It happens the other way, I suspect: you will instead discover-some day in the future-that you have made a new emotional connection. Then you will know that you have been ready for someone else in your life. I am the mother of a dead son and a living daughter. As the mother of a dead boy, I want to tell you to keep Bill's memory a part of your life, but recognize, as much as it hurts, that it is but memory, that he is dead. As the mother of a living daughter, I want to tell you that you do not have to serve the memory to honor it; you honor him more by valuing the fullness of life.
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