Elizabeth Edwards

I've been reading a lot about Elizabeth Edwards in the last day or so. Very sad. But much of what I've read is commentary on how strong she was.

I very, very rarely write on Lympho Bob about people who have died from cancer. I see this as a place for Hope. Even my Nodes of Gold inductees are all survivors. But I feel like I should comment on Elizabeth Edwards, because if she was about anything, she was about Hope.

Maybe part of the reason she's been written about so much is that kind of macabre fascination we have with people seem so beaten down. Good gravy -- how much worse could it get for someone? The day after her husband loses in 2004, she gets her cancer diagnosis. Then during the 2007 campaign, she gets news about the relapse. All of this comes after she's getting over another family tragedy. And then she gets hit with the news about her Husband. It's just all piled on her. It seems so unfair.

But that's where the Hope comes in. If you read the book Game Change, about the major players in the 2008 presidential election, you saw that Elizabeth Edwards was not depicted very well. She came off as kind of a control freak. But I think that attitude is what kept her alive as long as it did. She doesn't strike me as someone who took No for an answer.

I've read a couple of commentaries about Edwards in the last day or so that have stuck with me, both from lymphoma survivors. One is by Betsy de Parry, on AnnArbor.com, and the other is by Jonathan Alter, a columnist for Newsweek, published by thedailybeast.com. On her Facebook page, Betsy points out that both she and Alter were appalled by the criticism that lizabeth Edwards received when she and her husband chose to continue his presidential campaign in 2007 after she was diagnosed with cancer a second time. I'm in full agreement with them in being appalled.

I probably wasn't at the time; I probably thought, like a lot of people, that John Edwards should have dropped out and she should have focused on her health. But now I say, Forget that.

I have this conversation with myself a lot. At what point does someone just kind of drop out? At what point do you say, "I'm sick, so I'm not going to do X anymore." Think about it, though, and take a step back. If I say, "I'm going to stop doing X at work," what's to then stop me from going to work at all? I mean, what's the point of working now if I'm not going to be around to enjoy my retirement? Keep taking that a step back -- why even get out of bed if I'm not going to work? Why go to my kids' games or concerts? When does that choin of thought ever end? Why go on living at all if things are bad right now?

I don't know if I'm explaining it well, but what I mean is I can see how people can let their sadness and hopelessness spin out of control. I don't allow myself to get that way, and Elizabeth Edwards obviously didn't, either. "As long as you're not dead, you're alive," she said once .

Amen to that. What would she have done if he'd quit the presidential race? Would they have sat at home and stared at each other until her next doctor's appointment?

No, there's no sense in living like that. Agree or disagree with John Edwards' politics, but too many lives had to go on even though Elizabeth got sick. There was no sense in quitting just because of her. Too many potential regrets for everyone involved. Too much sitting around and waiting....

So I'm saddened to hear about Elizabeth Edwards, but I'm taking her death as a good time to remind myself about what's important. Hope. Fighting. Not regretting. Looking to the future, even if it's uncertain. She wasn't a perfect person, but she left a good legacy, for cancer patients and everyone else.