Option B by Sheryl Sandberg and Adam Grant (August 2017)
I cited how much I was looking forward to reading this book in my August newsletter. It is hard to say for sure, though, exactly what I was looking forward to. Option B is initially about loss and grief. Eventually, it gets into moving on from loss and grief. Throughout, a number of academic studies are cited.
These are not exciting topics (1). And yet, I found the book worth the wait. Once I got going, it took me about a day of traveling to finish it (2).
I must acknowledge my interest in this book came from two personal factors. First, my mom died a couple of years ago (editor's note: breaking news for longtime readers). Second, I’m very interested in organizational and team building dynamics (editor's note: see editor's note, above). Indirectly, Option B covered both.
So, although I think most readers will get a lot from this book, I suggest to those wavering to keep my situation in mind before responding to my full recommendation.
One up: Option B is true to a couple of its own insights. At one point, the authors note that as grief does not have any correct methods, those championing a particular approach must be ignored. This book offers plenty of wisdom and insight without descending into a how-to guide for the grieving.
They also note how people in pain need support for their suffering. They go on to identify confirming feelings as a key step in recovery. I thought the book itself did an excellent job of both (with many of Sandberg’s personal stories about her experiences after her husband’s sudden death serving as key examples for grieving readers).
One down: This book covered a lot of ground. I think the result was inevitable given the co-author concept because each author will want the work to highlight their specific strengths or expertise. The many roles each author plays in life also contributed as they framed various aspects of this book through their roles as a parent, spouse, child, friend, and colleague.
Though I thought the book overall was excellent and met my high expectations, I suspect the result of a more focused follow-up effort would be significant. There was a lot left uncovered, I think, and this topic is as universally appealing as any book could be about.
Just saying: One of the better quotes from this book is “when life hands someone lemons, don't talk about your cousin who died of lemons”. I believe it was written on a card someone sent to Sandberg (though I admit I am not entirely sure I recall this correctly).
When my mom died of…er, lemons… a couple of years ago, I was surprised to learn about all those around me whose mothers also died of lemons (3). I did not react negatively to these stories (though I understand some in my position have). I mostly felt bad about being unable to help them with their ongoing suffering. I resolved to remember for the future: if someone’s mother died of lemons, don’t immediately talk about my mom's battle against lemons.
I started volunteering with hospice just a few months later. In theory, this was a way for me to talk about lemons so I would not be tempted to do so in the future when someone else’s mother died. But in practice, I did need to exercise the same caution. In some cases, I thought it was appropriate to share the full story of how I came to the hospice and why I wanted to volunteer. In others, I suspected I was in ‘lemons’ territory and opted to omit certain details in explaining how I came to the hospice.
Footnotes / imagined complaints
1. This assertion, I'm sure, was recently proven in an academic study.
The confidence interval was at least 95%, I'm told.
2. Who says airline delays are a bad thing?
To be fair, my flight was delayed and the extra time helped, but still, a day!
3. Just in case anyone is confused...
...it's Lemons Awareness Month.
