Meeting Elizabeth Edwards
The very kind and talented Josh Halett took this picture. You can read his account here and more images from the event here.
One of the highlights of my time at Blogher was meeting Elizabeth Edwards. I’d been feeling so distracted during the keynote, wondering what it must be like to be her at this moment in time–knowing you have untreatable cancer, small children and a husband who very well may land up in the White House.
Later at our last party at the Children’s Museum, I had a chance to ask her about all this. She received my curiosity and concern with so much grace.
“I worry about you,” I said, surprised at how emotional I felt putting these thoughts into words. “I know your cancer is back and that you have these little children. I want to be so supportive of what you’re doing, but at the same time I don’t want to participate in something that would diminish this time in your family’s life–your time is so precious.”
It feels shocking now to recount this. Who am I to worry about Elizabeth Edwards or to get myself worked up into some form of motherhood grief over the thought of being ill or leaving little children behind, but the whole thing just gets me. One of my greatest fears is orphaning my children. I feel so deeply how much they need me, how much their hearts would be split in two without me.
She turned to me with so much fire in her blue eyes, so much strength, so much grace. “You know John and I lost a child?” I nod, remembering that story and how that grief must have fueled their resolve to have more children, so many years later. “We know how important it is to not live our lives with regret.” She put her hands on my shoulders, the way your mother does when you need to hear her clearly, when she needs to speak directly to your heart. She tells me about how they keep the children close to them, the way she’s homeschooling them with the help of another teacher, how this is so much the life they are choosing, eyes wide open.
She brushed away my unexpected tears (how can you not cry about things like this?) and tells me, blue eyes on fire, “This is what I want, what we want. ” And I know in my soul it is a thousand percent true. “Now do you feel better?” she said, smiling.
I do, so much better that I remember the Lucy bracelet–my last one, and I give it to her along with the story. Lucy Goode Brooks was a slavewoman who worked with the women in her sewing circle to secure land in Richmond for the orphans returning from the plantations after the Civil War. Together with their Quaker friends they pulled off nothing short of a miracle. Lucy’s work stands to this day and her bracelet helps tell the story.
“John should go there,” I tell her, thinking of Julie and Jenna and all the people at Friends who help Lucy’s work continue and flourish and grow in the most challenging neighborhoods in Richmond. John would know how to appreciate this. She puts the bracelet on, reading the inscription–”Isn’t it amazing what one woman and her friends can do?”
We hug tight as a way to acknowledge all the truth and beauty of this moment. I pray for Mrs. Edward and her friends and all the ways they work to bring hope to the world. I pray for her children and the story she is writing for them right now with her life–the story of her courage and determination to pour herself out with passion and love for the sake of what she believes to be true and right. She turns with all her strength and grace to the next woman in line, and continues with spirit her life’s work.
Blessings, Mrs. Edwards. May you arrive at the finish with peace in your heart and the deep knowledge that everything you’ve given has been so much more than enough. I will never forget you.
kindly sent to me by Linda Davick, fellow illustrator and kindred spirit.
July 31st, 2007 at 4:03 pm
The picture of you and Elizabeth Edwards brings tears to my eyes. Thank you so much for sharing your conversation with her. It’s so instructive to all of us to remember to go to the heart of the matter, in the moment. Elizabeth is going from town to town and place to place these days, and I have no doubt that the conversation that will stick in her head is the one she had with you talking about what is most important to her, and feeling the love and caring you showed for her. Beautiful, just beautiful.
July 31st, 2007 at 4:39 pm
Beautiful and touching in ways beyond description! Your words and sentiments speak directly to the heart of what matters…What each of us needs to grasp ahold of and hold tightly onto as we navigate our life on this crazy planet.
It was a joy to meet you at BlogHer! Thank you for sharing yourself with the world
July 31st, 2007 at 6:12 pm
I’ve spent the past 15 minutes clicking between your post, jen, Ms. Edwards’ site, Josh’s pages and the Flickr photos.
What a blessing and privilege to share this moment. Thank you.
Emily said it so well in her comment…her phrase is one I must take to heart and be brave enough to do…”go to the heart of the matter, in the moment.”
July 31st, 2007 at 7:46 pm
and look at you touching your superhero necklace. standing there with a real live superhero touching you.
beautiful.
July 31st, 2007 at 9:03 pm
I would have cried too. My mother has had cancer twice, and I know if it comes back, that will most likely be it. If you can find the clips of Elizabeth Edwards on Ted Koppel’s cancer special, watch them. She is so entirely eloquent about this struggle, about her past struggles, that I sometimes wish it were she who was running for President. She’s 100% authentic.
July 31st, 2007 at 9:58 pm
Jen, thanks for sharing the photo, your story, and the links to other photos of your life-affirming encounter with Elizabeth Edwards. Life is so short and precious. Our children and spouses and friends, our whole world needs each of us to live each day fully and authentically. No one else can do it the way we do. Thanks also for acknowledging your own concern about leaving your children as orphans. As mothers and fathers, we all think about that. And wonder what if… And pray that everyone who knows and loves us will pour all their love onto our children in our absence. In the meantime, let’s love our children well. Love each other well. And take great care of ourselves. Inspired, Gail
July 31st, 2007 at 10:45 pm
I’m sitting here with goosebumps, near tears.
Beautiful and evocative.
August 1st, 2007 at 12:32 am
Thanks again for sharing this unique story with us.
The picture is full of love and passion.
Thank you.
August 1st, 2007 at 12:51 am
Hooray Jen! It has been such a joy to make these bracelets and hear amazing stories about where and who they are reaching. Thank you for your compassion with this project.
Warmly, Elisa Saucy
August 1st, 2007 at 2:03 am
Jen-
You are just too awesome! How can I thank you for continuing to bring your wonderful energy to sharing the powerful story of the Lucy bracelet? I continue to be amazed at what one woman and her friends can do… to bring hope where little was previously found, healing where hurt had been, opportunity where little seemed possible. Thank you for being another link in this chain of compassion.
Namaste, Julie @ http://www.friendsassn.org
August 1st, 2007 at 12:10 pm
I have tears in my eyes. What a beautiful meeting with a woman who you admire so much. I am so pleased that you were able to have this conversation. Altering.
xoxoxo
August 1st, 2007 at 12:14 pm
“May you arrive at the finish with peace in your heart and the deep knowledge that everything you’ve given has been so much more than enough. I will never forget you.”
One could say the very same thing about you.
August 1st, 2007 at 1:04 pm
i’m so happy to have stumbled across your site! what a lovely story. your energy is infectious!
have a beautiful day!
August 1st, 2007 at 1:26 pm
This was the most powerful image that came out of BlogHer 07.
Jen, I am grateful that you shared this story with us as now we’re privvy to your conversation with Elizabeth Edwards. But the look on your face and her hands on your shoulders, spoke volumes about the whole hearted compassion, understanding and love in this exchange.
May we all be as forthright, caring and loving as you.
Many blessings to you, Jen.
August 1st, 2007 at 2:13 pm
This picture says it all. Jen, I love your spirit and can’t wait to see you again. Keeping your “hopefull” pin close.
August 1st, 2007 at 3:06 pm
Amazing!
August 1st, 2007 at 8:39 pm
Wow. Just WOW.
August 1st, 2007 at 8:57 pm
this wonderful exchange between two very amazing women (and captured on film, to boot) is getting me all emotional. i love that everything you do, even speaking to a stranger, is done with heart.
August 2nd, 2007 at 12:17 am
What a beautiful post. It completely captures her strength. Thanks for sharing your experience.
August 2nd, 2007 at 1:08 am
such a beautiful story, thank you so much
August 2nd, 2007 at 1:53 am
I admire you even more now, and I wasn’t sure that was possible. What a sparkling soul you have, Jen.
August 2nd, 2007 at 2:04 am
you floor me, every time. thank you.
August 2nd, 2007 at 3:45 am
i feel so blessed that you posted this. thank you for sharing your experience and giving us a glimpse into this truly beautiful moment between two incredible and authentic women.
August 2nd, 2007 at 11:00 pm
Tears in my eyes! Thank you so much for sharing. And I also wanted to tell you that your “small is beautiful” session was fantastic.
August 2nd, 2007 at 11:07 pm
I guess 8:01pm is as good as time as any for a good cry. Oh Jen. I am so delighted to have finally met you and to have had the chance to look into your eyes. Just look at you!
August 2nd, 2007 at 11:07 pm
I guess 8:01pm is as good as time as any for a good cry. Oh Jen. I am so delighted to have finally met you and to have had the chance to look into your beautiful eyes. Just look at you!
August 3rd, 2007 at 7:05 am
[…] This account from Jen Lemen captures both the enigma that is Elizabeth Edwards, and the heroine. Jen had the courage to ask Mrs. Edwards a question that I think many women would like to ask. It’s Edwards’ answer that I wasn’t prepared for. Jen, thank you for writing this amazing piece, and Josh Hallett, thank you for taking these photos and sharing them! […]
August 3rd, 2007 at 9:41 am
What a beautiful thing! Having covered politics for over 25 years I’m just sick of all of them most of the time — the posturing and the lies. I forget about the remarkable ones - those who really believe that they can make the world better for their children and ours and give their whole hearts to do so. Your magnificent recounting of a remarkable encounter was a true gift to me as I suspect it was for so many. Of course, only a courageous woman would ask the question that gave another courageous woman the chance to offer such a response. Hats off Jen. I looked for you all weekend - wanting so to meet you. Maybe we can try — I live one zip code away on 14th and Juniper! Let’s try — at least long enough for me to give you a thank you hug.
August 3rd, 2007 at 2:03 pm
[…] One thing that kept coming up for me again and again was this idea of taking greater risks. I’m not a meek, mild person by any stretch of the imagination. I can talk to someone like this and not be nervous at all. I can speak my heart without reservation in most every setting. But when it comes to the work of bringing my art to new people or my ideas to new audiences–people I can’t see face-to-face–I can hold myself back. […]
August 4th, 2007 at 10:28 pm
I read your blog and am often inspired by it. Today it got personal. I worked for “Friends” here in Richmond for a short time while in grad school. A few years later, I have a daughter named Lucy - totally coincidental. Thank you for reminding me of a true hero to teach my little one about as she grows up.
August 6th, 2007 at 1:19 am
PS I loved this so much I linked to it on The Soccer Mom Vote. You can see it here: http://www.thesoccermomvote.com/the_soccer_mom_vote/2007/08/the-people-behi.html
August 6th, 2007 at 1:02 pm
These pictures are wonderful!
EE was one of the highlights of the conference for me. I wish she would run.
I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet you at BlogHer. I jotted down your site as one I wanted to investigate after the conference, but a personal meeting wasn’t in the cards apparently.
Maybe next year?
August 8th, 2007 at 10:00 pm
[…] You can and should read Elizabeth Edwards response here. I’m still mulling over my options in the Democratic field, but now I feel like if I pick John Edwards, I can vote for him with a clear conscience. […]
August 9th, 2007 at 10:43 am
Meeting Elizabeth Edwards…
Jen Lemen was worried about how Elizabeth Edwards could battle cancer and campaign for her husband, presidential hopeful John Edwards.
Elizabeth Edwards answered her question here….
August 31st, 2007 at 12:13 am
Beautiful post, Jen. Thank you so much for sharing this moment. I had the opportunity to meet Elizabeth back in October, before she knew the cancer was back, and before John was officially a candidate. She was warm, inspiring, and generous of spirit. I get that same feeling reading your blog.
August 31st, 2007 at 11:13 am
This was beautiful. Jen - you have such a soulful way of expressing you feelings and touching everyone with your thoughts. And Hey, that is similar to what I feel about Elizabeth Edwards. Every time she speaks I am so impressed with her strength, candor, her in-depth knowledge, and the way she reaches out to people in such a genuine way.
I am so sorry I missed meeting her at BlogHer cocktail party. During the Children’s Museum event, I was still sitting in the big room where she was interviewed by Lisa Stone writing up the live blog. I wanted to try to capture every word she said because every word was so meaningful, interesting, insightful on and on.. She has such an indepth understanding of the important issues in this country and is so articulate expressing them. It got to the point where all my buddies were calling me, they had taken all the chairs and the wireless was being cut off so I just left. And hoped that I somehow was able to let other people who were not there share in her wisdom.
Because I could not be at the cocktail party, this post helped me feel like I was there!
August 31st, 2007 at 3:23 pm
This made me cry.
All as I lie here next to my infant daughter wearing your dreamer onesie.
You’re amazing Jen. I can see why she connected with you.
September 3rd, 2007 at 4:51 pm
Wow, what an amazing experience. I am truly touched by you both and so glad that you were able to share Lucy Goode Brooks’ story with her. Wow.
September 27th, 2008 at 11:58 pm
[…] intact that affects me. I want to take my shoes off and honor this sacred ground. I felt this way talking to Elizabeth Edwards last year. There are things they know that I need to hear. I just couldn’t believe I was getting my […]