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-size, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $5 (U.S. funds only) to: Dear Abby, Anger Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, IL 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)
Budding Infatuation Blooms Into the Fullness of Love
DEAR ABBY: The letter from "Mother of 10" was intriguing. She wrote that after being married 30 years, she told her son that whenever her husband walked into the room, she could still feel her heart lift. Her son said it was only infatuation. I would like to relate my experience.
In August 1970, I met the woman I later married. She walked into a room to join the group I was in, and when I saw her, my heart skipped a couple of beats. I never said, "This is the woman for me," but she had an effect on me. There she quietly sat with her ankles crossed and her hands in her lap -- a perfect lady.
It took me three months to build up the courage to ask her out. We became engaged at Christmas 1976 and were married 13 months later. It was the best thing I ever did.
When we go to bed at night and I feel her warm body next to mine, I get all excited. When we wake up in the morning and she snuggles up under my arm and rests her head on my chest, it is the greatest feeling in the world. Every once in a while, I can't let go, and we stay wrapped in each other's arms for as long as 45 minutes. She calls it "recharging our batteries."
Abby, if this is infatuation, I can't wait to see what real love is like. My heart won't be able to handle it. -- PETER KENNEDY, HACKENSACK, N.J.
DEAR PETER: It seems you found a soul mate when this lady walked into your life. One of the distinguishing characteristics of true love is that it grows, because it is unselfish and based on sharing. Infatuation is only the "sizzle." It snaps and sputters, but it doesn't last. You've got the real thing.
DEAR ABBY: I read your column every day, and now I need your advice. I am a 17-year-old senior girl in high school. Up until the middle of last year, I wanted to become a doctor. Then I was faced with a personal problem that I couldn't deal with on my own and couldn't take to my parents.
I finally went to one of my favorite teachers -- someone I felt I could confide in. She helped me work through my problem, assured me that everything would be fine, and told me if I ever needed anything, to come see her. She was genuinely concerned about me.
After that experience, I began to feel that I would be happier becoming a teacher rather than going into medicine. My mother has not taken the news well. She thinks I should focus on becoming a doctor because the pay is better.
I am torn between following my heart vs. making my mom happy. What should I do, Abby? Sign me ... CONFUSED WITH A CAPITAL "C"
DEAR CONFUSED: Both medicine and teaching are "helping professions." I urge you to make no hard-and-fast decisions now. Go to college, keep your options open -- and then follow your heart.
DEAR ABBY: I have a pet peeve. It's folks who leave long, slow voice mail messages -- then reel off their telephone numbers at top speed.
Callers should state their name and phone number FIRST, so the entire message doesn't have to be replayed over and over. Callers should also remember that although their phone number is second nature to them, it may be new to me. Speak those seven digits a little slower, PLEASE! -- RUTH IN VERONA, WIS.
DEAR RUTH: Your pet peeve also happens to be one of mine, and I would like to offer a further suggestion: Callers should be sure to give their area code first when slowly reciting their phone number.
ROMANCE IS FAST OUT OF GATE BUT FALTERS IN THE BACKSTRETCH
DEAR ABBY: For the past three months, I've been seeing a guy I met in night class. However, all of a sudden, it seems like our relationship is going backward instead of forward.
He's dealing with a very stressful situation at work, and I'm doing my best to be supportive by not pressuring him. I don't want to seem pushy, so I haven't said anything, but sometimes I feel neglected.
At first, we were e-mailing and talking on the phone daily. We even started calling each other "honey" and "darling." Physically, we're really into each other -- but when we're not in bed, we can't seem to hold a conversation.
Can this relationship be saved? Or is he trying to tell me something? -- LOST AND CONFUSED IN MASSACHUSETTS
DEAR LOST AND CONFUSED: One of the major problems with jumping into bed with someone without getting to know him first is the problem you're having now. You don't know him well enough to know if he's telling you the truth or trying to back away.
The smartest thing you can do is to be sympathetic about his work problems. Let him talk to you about them. Try to learn more about his interests and concerns outside the bedroom, and talk to him about yours. In other words, give him time and a chance to see that there is more to you than the sexual side.
Whether this relationship has substance or was just a fling remains to be seen. But speaking realistically, few people can sustain indefinitely the level of heat you two were generating. When that cools, there has to be a community of interest for the romance to survive.
DEAR ABBY: I am a 53-year-old woman planning to live with my 54-year-old boyfriend. The term "boyfriend" is the problem. I feel silly introducing him as my boyfriend, but I don't like the terms "lover" or "significant other," "life partner" or "domestic partner." Nothing sounds right to me -- even "friend" feels inappropriate.
Any ideas, Abby? -- EAST COAST LIVE-IN LADY
DEAR LADY: Since you don't like any of the commonly used terms, simply introduce him by his name: "... and this is John Smith." The way you and John treat each other will convey your message more effectively than any label.
DEAR ABBY: "Learned Too Late in Fort Worth" was written by the husband dying of cancer who pondered the wasted years with a wife who was always too busy for him.
That letter reminded me how fortunate I am to spend each precious day with my wife of 60 years. In fact, our relationship once prompted me to write some song lyrics using a theme I hope all seniors with living spouses will embrace.
AUTUMN DAYS
When autumn days remind us that the summertime is gone
And the shadows show the sun is on the wane,
It seems so easy to forget that life continues on
As we revel in our strolls down mem'ry lane.
But then I stop to reason that living knows no season,
And realize our numbered days are few.
That's why I don't recall if summer skies were gray or blue
But live each lovely autumn day with you.
-- FRANCIS STROUP, DEKALB, ILL.
DEAR FRANCIS: You're not only a lyricist, you're also a poet and philosopher. May the melody linger on.
For an excellent guide to becoming a better conversationalist and a more attractive person, order "How to Be Popular." Send a business-size, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $5 (U.S. funds only) to: Dear Abby Popularity Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, IL 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)
Memorial Day Remembrance Stirs Feelings of Gratitude
DEAR ABBY: The Friday morning before Memorial Day, I read the letter in your column from Carmella La Spada from the White House Commission on the National Moment of Remembrance. On Memorial Day, I was invited to a barbecue at the home of friends, so I decided to create our own moment of silence.
The gathering included myself, my teen-age son and the host family, which consisted of two more teens and several older relatives. The host had served in the Navy during the Gulf War, so the moment of remembrance held extra meaning for him.
At 3 p.m., the group gathered around the American flag in the front yard. I read Ms. La Spada's letter aloud, as it explained beautifully the reason for the moment of silence. Then my son, who plays the trumpet, played a beautiful rendition of "Taps."
The experience gave me a deep sense of gratitude for the freedoms we enjoy, made possible by all of the men and women who have served in our armed forces down through the history of this country. In that moment, I felt the connectedness of us all.
Thank you, Abby and Ms. La Spada, for helping to make the day truly meaningful. Please sign my name. I am proud to live in the land of the free. -- TERESA ST. GEORGE, WENATCHEE, WASH.
DEAR TERESA: I'm sure Carmella La Spada will be as pleased as I am to know her letter spurred you to action. And I hope your letter reminds everyone who sees it how fortunate we are to live in this great country. The freedoms we enjoy today are the result of great personal sacrifice, and we must never forget it.
DEAR ABBY: The letters you have printed about acts of kindness -- as well as those about the insensitive treatment people with disabilities have received at some restaurants -- reminded me of an experience I had.
My father had many strokes and could no longer speak. However, in spite of his disabilities, my father was excited about giving me away at my wedding.
I took him to a tuxedo shop in North Seattle for a fitting. The young man who helped us could not have been more than 19 or 20 years old. He looked my father in the eye and addressed every question to him, although my father could answer with only a nod or a shake of the head. He was courteous and respectful, and accommodated my father's need to have a tux with a loose collar because of his trach tube.
I'll always be grateful to this kind and sensitive young man. He treated my father like the gentleman he was. The memory of that incident brought me a bit of comfort when my father died a month after the wedding.
I regret that I never properly thanked the young man, nor did I get his name. I hope he sees this -- and that other service providers will realize how much respectful treatment means to people with disabilities and their family members. -- MARY R. SWEENEY, ISSAQUAH, WASH.
DEAR MARY: I, too, hope he sees the letter, and that others in the service professions will learn from that fine young man's example.
For everything you need to know about wedding planning, order "How to Have a Lovely Wedding." Send a business-size, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $5 (U.S. funds only) to: Dear Abby, Wedding Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, IL 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)