I had a really thought provoking conversation with Edith’s daughter, Alice, this week that has had me pondering things quite a bit. We were talking about how her mom was feeling about the book and the illustrations. In essence she said that when I first read the story to her mom she loved it. At that point it was just words, and she thought I had captured the essence of her story well. But she hadn’t really grasped what it would mean to have it fully illustrated. So when she saw the early version with pictures, there was a huge disconnect between that and the mental image of what she thought we were doing.
Edith retired from teaching sixth grade in 1972. She doesn’t have any grandchildren. When do you suppose was the last time she browsed through the children’s picture book section of a library or bookstore? What did she envision when we talked about an illustrated picture book? The span of time since 1972 is essentially my lifetime and picture books have change a lot since I was little. The evolution of desktop publishing and print technology means you can now have full color printing. Think about classic books like “The snowy day” or any Dr. Seuss book. The illustrations are vastly different than what you see in most modern picture books.
And then think about what it would mean to have someone illustrate your life? It’s one thing to look back at actual photographs. Moments in time captured on film (pre-digital), often in all their imperfection with messy hair or awkward expressions. But illustrations are intentionally drawn to convey something broader – to capture the essence of the story, a sense of time and place beyond what photographs can do. Illustrations are meant to convey the feeling or experience of the story, to add depth and expand on what the words alone can say. The illustrations help the author guide the reader into a deeper understanding of the story.
But if it was my life that someone else was illustrating, chances are pretty good I’d look at the illustrations and feel dissonance too. Is it even possible for someone else to capture a sense of our memories on paper? To get the faces and expressions of our loved ones correct? To capture what it felt like in our childhood home? No wonder many people refuse to create work about a person who is still alive.
What must it feel like, at age 109, to have your life put in the spotlight in the way that Edith is now experiencing? As exciting as it all is, I imagine in many ways it is also overwhelming, and quite possibly a bit uncomfortable. And I can’t help but also think of Alice, her daughter, who is carrying the weight of all of this in a unique way as well. Every communication and arrangement goes through Alice. She’s the one that helps her mother understand or, in the case of the illustrations, try to accept what is happening. It is not an easy task.
Another thing Alice said when we spoke was that her mother was worried the book was going to take too long, that it wouldn’t be done “in time”. She didn’t expand on this statement, but is it really necessary? Erica and I of course have the same concern. We are all anxious to see this completed because every one of us wants it to be something Edith can hold in her hands, that will bring her joy, and that she can proudly pass on to her friends and loved ones while she is still alive.
There are only a few illustrations left to do. Over the next couple of weeks Erica will be going back through all of the pages to make corrections and adjustments on the early illustrations that Edith and Alice have requested. To tweak the font to make sure we’ve got the best typeface and size and color (we put purple in there early on to play with but that will not be the final color).
We’re getting close. We are excited. Many of you are excited. Now I just pray that Edith can find peace with the illustration process so her concerns and hesitations will subside. Thank you all for your support and encouragement. Prayers are welcome as well!
“All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.” – Julian of Norwich
The Renfrow Story 
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