“You’re not doing a good enough job of telling Bill’s story. People want to be involved in a story.”

I’ve heard it over and over again in the past years as I’ve sought direction and wisdom for next steps with www.beafishdesigns.com.  I know it’s true, and as a trained writer and storyteller, I’m stumped at my apparent inability to get this right. 

But I had to push back when more than one industry expert suggested I need to hashtag “cancer sucks.”

I can’t do it because Bill would have NEVER said that.  He hated that phrase. In fact, as soon as he was diagnosed in 2009, we decided that we would view cancer as a gift through which we could share Christ.  (I absolutely embraced the thought but arguably wasn’t as courageous in living it out as he was.)  In any case, other than putting the facts out there that cancer did indeed take his life, I’ve long resisted playing the big “cancer card” with this business venture. It feels manipulative, and I can’t do it.

Then we launched Beafish Kids, and some things came into clearer focus about how we should and could better articulate Bill’s legacy.  In allowing young students to help with the Photoshop brush strokes needed for a few of the designs, we realized that this is what would thrill Bill the most: fostering creativity in children.  Even with adults in the ad agency world, writers and artists repeatedly told me that what made Bill a superb creative director was that he encouraged them to design and express freely, then was quick to make sure they got all the credit. In his selflessness, he exceled in building others up…and while I was much more likely to guide our daughters to color inside the lines, he knew how to stimulate explosive creativity.  It was a sight to behold.  And it’s a huge part of who he was – certainly bigger than being a cancer patient.

So now, depending on the design, our apparel hangtags say something like:

“See the “B-E-A” in the logo fins? It stands for Bill Edwards Art. Artist Bill Edwards was also a photographer, salty sea dog, fisherman, and fisher of men – and Mr. Bill loved developing creativity in children. Beafish Designs is proud to continue his legacy by partnering with young artists whose background and brushstroke work are feature in some of our new designs.”

OK, so CHECK. We’ve launched a successful Kids line and we’re doing a better job of communicating who Bill was.

“But you’re part of the story now too. You still need to tell that story.”

Oh, good heavens — surely no one wants to hear about a 60-something-year-old widow.  Then a valued advisor and successful female angler texted me this:

“DO NOT be afraid to share your story. God has had this story written way before we were even created. It is nothing to hide, but to shout from the mountain tops. You are NOT looking for people to feel sorry for you…but it is a way of connecting and relating to others. It helps people who are suffering in similar ways to not feel alone.”

It was a bit of a mic drop.

After almost a decade, if I can’t talk about my role in this story, I’m actually depriving almighty God of the glory He deserves as the author!

So, here’s the real story:

Bill Edwards was a phenomenal artist and photographer.  He battled cancer for more than five years while Beafish was in its infancy and left this earth in March, 2015.  Now this Christ-following, wife-cherishing, children-adoring, crazy kind, perfectly patient, remarkable Renaissance, insanely creative, courageous, humble servant has been completely CANCER FREE for almost ten years. He lives in glory with his Lord and Savior with no chemo, no needles, no suffering, no pain, no fear, no illness of any kind.

So I’ll shout it from the mountain tops: The worst thing I thought could happen in my whole life actually did happen – and God is still here.  I did the hard, loud, lonely, and messy grief work and I’m standing in joy, flanked by my precious daughters and sons-in-love, not to mention my sister-person who moved to Houston several years ago — and together, we make one helluva team.

Our blessed little crew is surviving – no, thriving – in the light of the cross, each bringing his/her own gifts to honor Bill’s memory while making cancer history and creativity and beauty our future.   Please allow me to introduce them: