Abby shares more of her favorite, easy-to-prepare recipes. To order, send a business-size, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby, More Favorite Recipes, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)
IN-LAWS' PUBLIC RESERVE IS WIFE'S PRIVATE FRUSTRATION
DEAR ABBY: This concerns all those letters in response to "Hurt Mother-in-Law," whose daughter-in-law couldn't call her "Mom."
In my case, I wanted with all my heart to call my mother-in-law "Mom." She didn't ask me to, so I came right out and asked my in-laws if I could call them "Mom" and "Dad."
They said it was OK with them, but every time I did, they looked uncomfortable, so I quit calling them Mom and Dad and started calling them by their first names. Well, I could see they weren't pleased with that either, so I just gave up and avoided calling them anything.
They are very undemonstrative and never hug or kiss each other in public. They kiss above their grandchildren's heads when they greet them. This is foreign to me because I grew up in a very affectionate family. However, my husband didn't, although he shows me lots of affection in private.
Abby, is there a solution to this problem? Or must I learn to live with it? -- FRUSTRATED DAUGHTER-IN-LAW
DEAR FRUSTRATED: Don't try to "teach" your in-laws to be more demonstrative or affectionate; just be grateful that your husband shows you "lots of affection" in private.
Continue to be affectionate to your children. However, never order them to kiss Grandma, Grandpa or anyone else. Insincere kisses give children the wrong message.
The way to teach children to be affectionate is to show them affection.
DEAR ABBY: My mother is 59. My father was 74 when he died last year. They had been married for 40 years. When they met, my mother was 19, and Father was a 34-year-old widower with a 4-year-old son I'll call Max.
When Dad died, Mom went to a grief counselor who told her to "go for it." Nine months later, Mom moved Max into her bedroom! Max is my half-brother, but technically he is not a blood relative to my mother.
I thought it showed terrible judgment on her part when she had him move in with her, and most of my relatives agreed. After all, Max had been my mother's stepson for 40 years.
Abby, is our society so morally bankrupt that this is considered OK? Max is 44 and has been married five times. -- MORTIFIED
DEAR MORTIFIED: Let me put it this way: In at least 15 states, marriage between "step" relatives is prohibited by law. And in the other 35, I'm willing to bet that the behavior exhibited by your mother would raise eyebrows. However, both are adults, and neither one has solicited my advice.
DEAR ABBY: I've been following the letters from job-holding and at-home mothers, each of whom is critical or envious of the other.
Isn't it time to declare that parenting is just plain difficult? If there were a way to raise kids to ensure that they'll turn out to be happy, well-adjusted adults, we would have noticed by now.
Let's stop wasting time and join our efforts to make a better place to raise children. Give parents more help and respect, make our schools great and our streets safe. Let's applaud mothers who go out and work to support our economy, as well as those who stay at home and keep the neighborhood alive.
We're all in this together. -- DIANE E. BAKER, BERKELEY, CALIF.
DEAR DIANE: Thank you for a levelheaded letter. You said a mouthful.
Grandma's Memories Become Family's Most Treasured Gift
DEAR ABBY: My grandmother lives on a fixed income. For years I have sent her boxes of Christmas cards and stamps to help her with holiday expenses. They're a great gift for someone with a limited income who doesn't need one more bottle of bath oil or another knickknack. I was surprised last year when she told me that she was working on a Christmas present for me. It was a history of her life.
She dictated her biography into a tape recorder, and my aunt used a word processor to transcribe it. It began: "I, Pearl Thompson, was born in Iroquois in Kingsbury County, S.D., on May 4, 1907." It goes on, sharing all the milestones of her 87 years. She describes her father and his sons claiming land in South Dakota; building their own houses; seeing Halley's comet in 1911; and how they survived the year the great drought hit. She shared how she met George (my grandfather) and some of her grandparents' genealogy, of which I was unaware.
My favorite story is a Christmas memory: "A special Christmas for me was during the '30s when a 10-gallon can of cream sold for $3.50, and eggs were a nickel a dozen. George took the produce to town and came home carrying a pretty plate. I have used it every Christmas since."
And now her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren have this precious memento to remember her by.
I hope you will tell your readers about my grandmother's priceless Christmas gift, Abby. Then perhaps more grandchildren will share in the true joy of the holidays. -- TERRY L. THOMPSON, DALLAS
DEAR TERRY: A family history is a gift that money can't buy and exemplifies the true spirit of Christmas -- the gift of "self." Although your letter arrived too late to inspire my readers last Christmas, perhaps it will be an incentive for those who have put off recording their family history. Read on for a similar example of "keepsake creativity":
DEAR ABBY: A few years ago my parents made a videotape for their children and grandchildren. It was the most precious Christmas gift I have ever received.
They told us as much as they could remember about their parents, grandparents and family history. They told about their childhood, youth, meeting and falling in love. They described their early marriage, their hopes, dreams and plans for their life together. They talked about us children as babies, and related stories that were funny, sad, poignant and informative. They told of their triumphs and tragedies, dreams fulfilled and forsaken. They repeated family stories that kids hear many times but soon forget.
There was no attempt to make it a professional tape. They simply borrowed a camcorder, set it up and started to talk. If a horn blew, a dog barked, a phone rang -- no one seemed to care. It took them about a week to make the tape. One would talk until he or she was tired, then the other would sit down and carry on. The recorder would be turned off until the next day.
My parents are both gone now, but I can still hear their voices, see their faces and feel that they are here with me. This gift, which cost only a little time and a lot of love, is my greatest treasure. -- MARTI ALLEN, DAYTONA BEACH, FLA.
DEAR MARTI: From your description, I, too, can almost hear them talking. And for those people who are intimidated in front of a camera, or can't seem to get started, a simple question can get the ball rolling: "Mother, will you please tell me a little about your childhood and your family?"
To receive a collection of Abby's most memorable -- and most frequently requested -- poems and essays, send a business-sized, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby's "Keepers," P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)
DEAR READERS: This week is International Forgiveness Week. In years past, I have cited a portion of the lovely poem by George Roemisch, which is appropriately titled "Forgiveness":
"Forgiveness is the fragrance of the violet which still clings fast to the heel that crushed it."
In response to many requests from readers to see the entire poem, here it is:
FORGIVENESS
Forgiveness is the wind-blown bud which
blooms in placid beauty at Verdun.
Forgiveness is the tiny slate-gray sparrow
which has built its nest of twigs and
string among the shards of glass upon the
wall of shame.
Forgiveness is the child who laughs in merry
ecstasy beneath the toothed fence
that closes in Da Nang.
Forgiveness is the fragrance of the
violet which still clings fast to the
heel that crushed it.
Forgiveness is the broken dream which
hides itself within the corner of the
mind oft called forgetfulness so that it
will not bring pain to the dreamer.
Forgiveness is the reed which stands up
straight and green when nature's mighty
rampage halts, full spent.
Forgiveness is a God who will not leave
us after all we've done.
-- GEORGE ROEMISCH
So, Dear Reader, a gentle reminder: If perchance you are the "heel" that crushed a violet -- this is the week to seek forgiveness. -- LOVE, ABBY
DEAR ABBY: Your readers' response to Rod Carew's letter concerning his daughter, Michelle, and her fight against leukemia was tremendous.
In his letter, Rod requested that readers contact the National Marrow Donor Program (NMDP) and become volunteer donors to help patients in need of transplants. More than 22,000 Dear Abby readers have called 1-800-MARROW-2 (1-800-627-7692) for information. Many have already had the blood test necessary to join the registry of potential donors. The response to this letter has been greater than any other single print exposure of the NMDP's telephone number. Calls related to Michelle Carew currently total more than 47,000.
The National Marrow Donor Program thanks everyone who called for information, especially those who have, or will soon have, their tissue types listed to benefit the thousands seeking donors.
Abby, as the number of volunteers increases, more patients will find donors able to provide lifesaving bone marrow. To date, NMDP donors have given more than 4,000 patients the chance to beat their diseases, but many others are still waiting.
Our heartfelt thanks to you and your generous readers for their assistance. -- CRAIG W.S. HOWE, M.D., PH.D., CHIEF EXECUTIVE OFFICER, NATIONAL MARROW DONOR PROGRAM
DEAR DR. HOWE: Thank you for the update. Michelle Carew and the many others who await donor matches are in our thoughts and prayers.
Good advice for everyone -- teens to seniors -- is in "The Anger in All of Us and How to Deal With It." To order, send a business-sized, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby, Anger Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)