Option B has sat on my nightstand for 6 months. It’s been my “next to read” book for approximately that same amount of time. I’m just not a huge reader anymore, but I’m really trying to be better about that. Reading more will (at the very least) make me feel a bit better about my out-of-control TV habit.
I wanted to read Option B to expand my understanding of my grief experience. While the author lost her husband, not a child, I heard that it was still really relatable from one of my loss mom friends. What I learned while reading it is that anyone could benefit from reading this book, even if you’re not in the throes of complex grief yourself. In fact, I’d actually especially recommend it if you aren’t. My experience has been that a lot of people absolutely do not know how to interact with someone who is experiencing complex grief, and this book is a perfect little toolkit to help folks understand what’s happening and what they should do.
It’s hard for me to pick my favorite points, so please, please, please read it yourself, but here are a couple of notable things:
The 3 Ps: psychologist Martin Seligman spent decades studying how people deal with setbacks and found 3 Ps that can stunt recovery – personalization, pervasiveness, and permanence. Basically, the idea that the setback is your fault, will affect all areas of your life, and will never get better. I think one of the main reasons I have been able to make significant progress over the past year is because I absolutely do not think what happened is my fault. Which, I know, sounds weird since my weird body caused this whole thing. I can (and always have been able to) recognize the difference between things I can consciously control, and things I cannot. That’s called “radical acceptance” and my therapist says I’m skillful in that way.- The “ring theory”/Kvetching orders: if it’s possible to have a favorite grief theory, this one is definitely it for me. In this exercise, you draw the tragedy, and the people closest to it, as a series of rings. In our case, Jeff and I are in the smallest ring, the one closest to the loss. The next closest people are on the next smallest ring, and so on. It’s the idea that you should “comfort in” (comfort the people closest to the tragedy) and “dump out” (seek comfort from those further away from the tragedy). Since Jeff and I are in the ring closest to Brady, no one should come to us for comfort. Some of the most awkward interactions I’ve had over the past year have come when someone tries to “dump in”.
- Post-traumatic growth: The book details five versions of post-traumatic growth. The one that resonated most with me is that a brush with death can lead to a new life. I’ve spoken more on here about the grief around losing Brady, but my own brush with death is another thing I’ve had to grapple with. Survivors reexamine their priorities and oftentimes see new possibilities that they wouldn’t have before.
- Finding moments of joy in every day: the author writes down three things that brought her joy each day. I tried to start a gratitude journal this year and failed miserably. Some days, being grateful is just tough, but, I can definitely find 3 little things that brought me joy each day. I love this quote, “Whether you see joy as a discipline, an act of defiance, a luxury, or a necessity, it is something that everyone deserves. Joy allows us to go on living and loving and being there for others.” Some days, joy does feel like an act of defiance, but to me, the action of recording joy is more important than what my motivations are for doing it.
- The importance of community: It should come as no surprise that I relate to this one. The fellow loss moms that I’ve met over the past year provide a necessary sounding board for the emotions and experiences that follow the loss of a child. None of our stories are the same, and none of us are entirely in the same spot, but we support each other through the good and tough times. Jim Santucci, executive director of a grief support center, is quoted saying “Support groups connect you with others who really get what you’re going through. Deep human connection. It is not just ‘Oh, I feel bad for you’ but ‘I actually understand.'” People making sad eyes at you gets old really fast, but feeling understood is so. crucial.
Side note: did you know that Elon Musk’s first child died suddenly at 2 1/2 months old? I don’t know why I’m surprised when famous people, rich people, or athletes lose a child, but I always am. Tragedy can (and does) strike anyone.
In conclusion, read this. Tell me what you think about it. And most importantly, tell me what you learned from it. I promise, you will get something from it.
