Death of Sheryl Sandberg's husband

Just opened up Facebook as I turned the water on in the shower--it takes a minute to warm up. Yes, I know we are in a drought. Sometimes I save that water but not always and I should.

I read that Sheryl Sandberg's husband died suddenly on Friday at the age of 47. That is nine years older than I am. I don't work in Tech and I don't know much about the world of Silicon Valley and all that goes along with that. Quite frankly, if the dinner conversation I had with my sister, her husband, my brother, his wife and my husband on Wednesday night was any indication, I don't know much about what is going on anywhere these days. It was strange to sit and listen about work decisions, new bars, using metrics to measure the success of a project, a recent conference, the personality of each major consulting firm, a change in boss and a renewed discussion about job description. I liked listening but I didn't have much to add. The way I spend my days is so different right now. It wasn't a bad experience but it was a noticeable one. I almost always appreciate a noticeable experience.

Sheryl Sandberg and SurveyMonkey each came up in conversation on Wednesday. I can't remember if her husband, David Goldberg, specifically came up or not--if he had I might not have noticed because I'd never heard of him before today. From the looks of this article he was a very cool, smart guy.

This blog is already longer than the time I devoted to Facebook and this news item. I got in the shower, washing away the sweat and dust from an hour's worth of shoveling mulch. The water hit my shoulders and I thought "I want to send her a condolence card."

Then I thought--weird. I don't even know her. She'd probably be like, huh?

I haven't read Sheryl's book, though I've heard it referenced many times, usually with some stridency in the voice of whoever is talking. I know two things from my own reading over the years--that she made a change to prohibit her employees from working at home. Whoa! Big decision with lots of reaction. As someone who had worked many day from home throughout my career I could both see why it was a good decision and why many people would be pissed about it. The other thing I remember reading was how she took a very short maternity leave. It was a huge discussion about what that meant as far as her mothering and her executive life were concerned. Pretty sure I've never once read an article about any male executive and how much paternity leave he did or didn't take.

Whatever she is like and whatever her marriage was like I couldn't miss the quake in my stomach when I read about the death of her husband. Her life will change so much. The life of her child or children will change so much. Grief is transformative. It is holy. It destroys. I haven't felt it in a long time so I don't even feel comfortable writing about it because I don't think it's something you can really see when you're inside it. Then we're relying on memory when we write about it. I think the writing and the art that gets produced in the midst of grieving is so powerful to save and look at later. What was I even like when I made this? Can I remember feeling that way?

Grief is so changey and so wide and deep. You often don't notice it is there because it fades into the background, painting the walls around you. It is so variable. Unrecognizable sometimes. Maybe it can leave someone untouched but I don't think so. What do you think?

Sheryl Sandberg is someone who has many eyes on her--because she is a woman and she is using her voice in a noticeable way. I'm sure it is for many other reasons as well--like the fact that she is making big decisions and changes to how people work and that is a powerful thing to be able to do. It effects people, it scares people, it gets people excited. Now she will be doing all of that and she will also be living through the death of her husband. My heart aches for her, my gut clenches for her. I hope her grief somehow brings her something precious in its wake.