This won't be much about what I am eating or whether or not I exercised.
Elizabeth Edwards has died. At age 61, she was only 4 years older than I am.
I can hardly type for the tears in my eyes.
So today, rather than the usual so-on-and-so-forth about food and movement, rather than my usual tongue-in-cheek smart aleckiness, I need to say what this means to me.
I remember when John Edwards first ran for high office on the national scene. Most of us were captivated by his good looks and Southern charm. I miss Southerners in the White House--I just do. And I think most of us women were curious about Elizabeth's ordeal--first with the death of a child and then with cancer.
We had no idea what lay ahead for her.
First, her cancer started up again, and we read that there was no cure possible. The best prognosis was to slow it down. I know I wondered what it was like to find out for certain that your days were going to be cut short. And then her husband was unfaithful to her, and she learned--as did all of us--that he had fathered a child. Then the woman who had born the child felt a need to speak out.
And again, we hurt for Elizabeth Edwards. Only this time, she was the main news, not her soon to be ex-husband.
Yesterday, I read that her doctors said that any further treatment was useless. She said goodbye on her Facebook page.
And just now, as I went to close down for the work day, I saw that she had died today.
Elizabeth Edwards was everything I want to be. She had immense dignity in the face of some of the worst indignities possible, because if there is much worse than the knowledge--and evidence--that your husband has betrayed your marriage vows at the time you are most vulnerable, and then that knowledge is made public, and his mistress chimes in for her 15 minutes, I don't want to know what it is, much less experience it.
She wrote books. She advocated for health care reform. She told us about losing her hair, losing a child, losing her marriage, losing her life.
Today, I honor Elizabeth Edwards, the epitome of an Independent Woman--but one so closely tied to her family and friends and nation.
The totally shame-free, actual-life, real-time blog where I tell all, show all--without nagging or whining (all right--maybe a little whining...)--in my attempt to stop being a fat middle-aged woman who avoids mirrors and clothing stores and start being a woman at home in her body...brought to you by a real woman, the Independent Weltha Herself. I won't give any advice, and I'm not asking for any--just companionship on my journey.
Every day...a new post. Every other week...my real weight. Every month...new pictures.
For every woman who has ever tried to just lose the extra weight and feel good...overall and about herself...and who lived to tell the story.