DEAR ABBY: I was intrigued when I saw the letters in your column about forgetting people's names and trying to bluff. They reminded me of an incident that happened to my father, who is a 79-year-old Baptist minister.

Dad worked many jobs over the years. He had a "paying job" to raise us kids, and on the side he preached. He met people all over the Southwest, and they remembered him because he was educated, articulate, poetic, literate, compassionate, forgiving and loving. (He still is, and he still preaches that God is a loving, compassionate and forgiving entity.)

Dad can remember the faces of most of the people he has met, but not their names or the context in which he met them. One Sunday he returned to a church where he had served as an interim pastor. A lady walked up to him after the service and said with tears in her eyes, "Brother Clark, I can't tell you how moved I am to see you again. I haven't seen you in 10 years."

She chatted on about how happy she was to see him, and Dad tried vainly to remember her name. When she mentioned how much her husband had always thought of "Brother Clark," Dad put out a feeler based on that continued theme. "And just how IS your husband?"

"Still dead," was the much colder reply. It turned out that the last time the lady had seen Dad was when he had preached at her husband's funeral!

Dad not only raises people's spirits when they are grieving, he also raises the most beautiful flowers in Clinton, Miss. (just outside of Jackson). My mother is deceased now, but one of my favorite stories about my parents concerns a woman who stopped quite often to admire the gorgeous landscaping. One day the lady turned to my mom and asked, "How much do you pay your yardman?"

"Nothing," Mom replied. "But I have to sleep with him." -- KAREN CLARK, FORT WORTH, TEXAS

DEAR KAREN: Your letter is a day-brightener. You are fortunate to have been raised in a loving home in which laughter was not a stranger. That reminds me of a quotation I treasure from Wilferd (cq) Peterson: "Laughter is the best medicine for a long and happy life. He who laughs -- lasts."

DEAR ABBY: Mothers-in-law are so often given a "bad rap," I just have to tell you about mine.

Recently my marriage was faltering. My husband, "Jack," is a complex man whom I had always had great difficulty understanding. I felt I had tried just about everything, and was one step away from filing for divorce.

Out of desperation, I called my mother-in-law (I'll call her "Adele"). She listened as I poured out the story. She did not judge, criticize or condemn either one of us. She supported her son and me equally. Adele provided some keen insights into Jack that I didn't have. In a kind and gentle way, she also helped me to see where I needed to improve.

I learned a lot about my husband and also about myself from Adele's wisdom, and I'm putting what I learned into practice. Jack and I are staying married, and our marriage is growing stronger.

I thank God for my mother-in-law every night, and I pray that when my children are grown and have spouses of their own, I will be to them the same wise and loving mother-in-law that Adele is to me. -- MICHELLE IN GEORGIA

DEAR MICHELLE: What a beautiful tribute to your mother-in-law. As your letter so accurately illustrates, there are times when it takes more than two to make a marriage flourish. Thank you for sharing that valuable lesson. Adele sounds like a jewel.

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.)

DEAR ABBY: I'm writing in response to two of your readers who complained about "ghost syndrome," which occurs when someone suffers a tragedy such as divorce or terminal illness, and formerly supportive friends withdraw or disappear.

My family suffered another kind of tragedy that resulted in the same insensitive treatment. My husband, a highly placed executive, lost his job in 1990 because of company downsizing. We had been part of a large circle of friends. After the layoff it was as though we had caught a contagious disease or had fallen off the face of the earth.

Please let your readers know that the loss of a job is like having the rug pulled out from under you. Illnesses surface, self-esteem plummets, marriages are stressed and a general feeling of hopelessness pervades each day.

It would have been so helpful if a friend had invited us over for dinner, or had taken one of our children to a movie.

My husband and I finally found jobs out of town. We were grateful not only for the income, but also for a chance at a fresh start with the opportunity to make new friends -- because our old ones had vanished. -- LINDA W., FORMERLY OF TOLEDO, OHIO

DEAR LINDA: I'm sure your letter will strike a chord with many of my readers. Job loss is one of the most challenging circumstances a family has to face. It is a time when the compassion and sensitivity of friends and family -- helping with groceries or child care, offering to update a resume, or dropping off a stack of videos for a night of free entertainment -- can make all the difference.

People who care would not wait to be asked, which can be difficult for a family used to taking care of themselves. Such gestures are deeply appreciated and long remembered.

DEAR ABBY: My husband and I are retired and live in a gated (guarded) community occupied mostly by retired persons.

Our neighbors are lovely people, very friendly and sociable. "Sue" and "Al" are especially nice, and assist us in numerous ways. However, I can't set foot outside my front door without drawing Sue's attention. The minute she sees me, she comes over and initiates a conversation, usually of great length. This happens during the day, at night, on my porch or yard -- anytime I stick my nose outside my front door.

Abby, I like her and her husband very much and try not to hurt their feelings, but the stress is becoming unbearable. I feel like a captive in my own home. I actually dread going out my front door!

How can I convey the message that I don't wish to chat with her every time I am in her sight? It seems she purposely waits for me to come out so she can engage me in conversation. -- DESPERATE IN CARLSBAD

DEAR DESPERATE: Your neighbor could be a lonely woman with few social contacts, or she may be the biggest pest in your gated community. But treat her as you would want to be treated if the situation were reversed.

Make yourself less available for long conversations. Explain gently, but firmly that you have many things to do, and have no time to chat.

For an excellent guide to becoming a better conversationalist and a more attractive person, order "How to Be Popular." Send a business-sized, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby Popularity Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)

DEAR ABBY: I am a sailor in the U.S. Navy, stationed in Sasebo, Japan. After serving 11 years of active duty and visiting several different countries as a single sailor, I finally tied the knot with a beautiful Filipino woman I met in Manila. She had been a high school teacher. I love her dearly. She was (and still is) everything I could possibly want in a wife.

Being in the Navy requires me to go out to sea quite often, which puts a hardship on our marriage because of the long separations. We're handling the situation pretty well, and we make up for lost time when I get home.

My problem is my wife. Being from the Philippines, she knows the reputations of sailors in foreign ports. American sailors bring American dollars ashore, and most of them are looking for entertaining ways to spend them. (Most foreign ports have "ladies for hire.") However, I do not, and would never in a million years, cheat on my wife, especially with a lady who just wanted my money.

When I must go to foreign ports, my wife drives me crazy with her suspicions. I have tried my best to convince her that I'm not like the American sailors who have a "sweetheart" in every port.

Abby, can you please advise me on how to put my wife's suspicions to rest? -- SASEBO SAILOR

DEAR SAILOR: If your wife doesn't trust you out of her sight even though you have done nothing to justify her suspicions, your marriage is too fragile to endure.

Arrange for her to see the base chaplain for counseling. She needs to fill her time with activities that she will find rewarding. Since she is a qualified high school teacher, if she's not currently working, perhaps she could do some substitute teaching during your absence.

Keep her busy, or she'll drive you dizzy!

DEAR ABBY: Some time ago, I wrote you about losing my brother. You answered my letter and also enclosed a poem called, "Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep."

I was so moved by that poem, I shared it with my nephew and niece knowing that it would help to heal their grief over the loss of their parents.

Abby, I'm asking you to print it again to help others in the same situation. -- DAVID F. GIBONEY, PHOENIX

DEAR DAVID: "Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep" is one of the most frequently requested poems I have ever printed. I regret that I have never been able to locate the author. Although many people have claimed to have written it, I have never been able to confirm any of the claims. Read on:

"Do not stand at my grave and weep,

"I am not there, I do not sleep.

"I am a thousand winds that blow;

"I am the diamond glints on the snow.

"I am the sunlight on ripened grain;

"I am the gentle autumn's rain.

"When you awaken in the morning's hush,

"I am the swift uplifting rush

"Of quiet birds in circled flight.

"I am the soft star that shines at night.

"Do not stand at my grave and cry.

"I am not there; I did not die."

For everything you need to know about wedding planning, order "How to Have a Lovely Wedding." Send a business-sized, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby, Wedding Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)