Quoting from Edna St. Vincent Millay, a favorite poet since childhood, Elizabeth Edwards expresses her feelings about the death of her beloved son. Reading the many pages devoted to losing Wade is almost excruciating at times, and brings home the fear every mother tries to tuck away. To not think about. To reassure herself that such things only happen to other people. That God will take care of her child. Or else God won't. And that happened to Elizabeth, John, Cate, and their extended family. I bought the book because I was struck by something Edwards said in an interview regarding her cancer diagnosis, that it was bad, certainly, but the saving grace in losing a child is the knowledge that the worst day of your life has already come. Worse still, according to Elizabeth, it never goes. Yet she has learned to accommodate it--to parent the memory of her child rather than the child himself. Daily visits to Wade's grave, reading and talking to him, may seem excessive to those of us who have been so far fortunate enough to avoid her nightmare, but another point she makes that we all need to note is that there is no "right" way to grieve. She spoke in the interview mentioned above that the example her generation had of grief was Jacqueline Kennedy's much vaunted stoicism--at least in public. But the losses the two women suffered are not really comparable. If you are excessively worried about the safety of your children, I honestly would recommend you not read this book. I can't help but doubt one of her assertions, however, and that was that she and John Edwards went to extraordinary lengths to have more children only because having children around made them happy, not to replace Wade in any way. I realize substituting one child for another would not be possible, but at the very least, the younger Edwards children provide a distraction and promise another kind of future that was taken away with the loss of their elder son. I mean no disrespect by doubting her veracity on this point. And it doesn't matter anyway. It was their way to cope, they were lucky enough to be able to make it work, and once again, they have found the happiness that seemed forever lost. Elizabeth doesn't pull any punches about much of anything. It's funny to read her attempts to say something nice about the Kerrys, but they're damned with faint praise. To the dissatisfied reviewer who said the book mentions too many people, I agree that's a bit distracting, but in a way, the author is using the book as a kind of universal "thank you" to everyone she can't reach any other way. Her determination to "some day" answer all 65,000 e-mails (more now, I'm sure, since the book came out) she received while battling cancer is an unrealistic goal. I enjoyed the little snippets about friends, correspondents, staff and people she met on the campaign trail. I was surprised, however, that more attention wasn't devoted to the death of her campaign plane pilot in 2005. It was just mentioned, almost in passing. Elizabeth Edwards has led an interesting and valuable life, one well worth your time to read about.
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