DEAR MISS MANNERS: After the death of my father only two months ago, my mother and our family have all found that our mourning is more acute now that our perspectives have cleared of initial confusion. Our church family, colleagues of my father's, friends and neighbors have been extremely generous with us, and I have been honored and humbled at once to see the graciousness Dad's kindness has engendered in those who will miss him most.

Unfortunately, not everyone in the church family has apparently been able to understand what we are going through. My mother has been a member of the choir for 30 years or so -- but, during a decline in his health and Dad's eventual hospitalization, Mom "took time off" to be with him. Both before he died and -- as I have found out -- since, the minister of music has pressured Mom to rejoin the choir over and over. Just this week, she and I met him by chance in a restaurant, and he smilingly enjoined her to "come on back, it is time!"

Not only is my mother still in pain, but she was on her way, the very next morning, out of state for three weeks. I gently explained that the minister was going to have to wait at least that long for her return, but that I would honestly like to see Mom take as much time as she feels necessary before rejoining the choir.

My brother's and my concern about this seems to make Mom more defensive of the minister of music, but I truly feel that his persistent approach is unkind and insensitive. It is difficult to make a joyful noise when still choking on sorrow.

My question is whether it would be grossly inappropriate to write either to him or to the church asking for forbearance during this difficult time, which may not be "over" quite by this gentleman's expectations. Your guidance would be much appreciated.

GENTLE READER: While sympathizing with your complaint, Miss Manners wishes you had used a kinder and more sensitive phrase than "unkind and insensitive."

The gentleman means to be kind. He is not bludgeoning your mother because he needs an alto, or whatever she is. It is because he wants her to know that she will be welcomed back, and also because he feels that the activity would be good for her.

The insensitivity is in not yielding to her judgment about what is best for her -- rather like a host who cajoles a guest to take more food or drink, under the impression that it is hospitable to ignore repeated rejections.

This is annoying, but it is not intended to be mean. What he needs to be told, firmly, is that your mother appreciates his invitations, and that she -- as the best judge of her emotions -- will let him know when she is ready.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Is there a correct way to slide the food off a fork into one's mouth? Should one use one's lips, or is it acceptable to use one's teeth?

GENTLE READER: The lips. Miss Manners is afraid that the screeching sound involuntarily made in reaction to the sound of teeth scraping over a fork is not conducive to gracious dining or gracious digestion.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: There is nothing nicer, most would agree, than having a friend say that he or she is thinking of you. Lately, I seem to be having friends and acquaintances tell me this more and more.

They are doing so from their cellular phones, generally from the line at the bank, the service station or on their way to dinner with a more deserving friend. It's becoming increasingly clear to me that their intention is not to tell me that they are thinking of me, but to kill time during their tedious routines.

More often than not, when I receive these calls, I am involved in a routine myself, but my routine often consists of eating dinner, reading a book or playing with my dog.

Miss Manners, how can I, without sounding utterly harsh, tell them that I would be glad to hear from them when they return home or schedule a time to meet for coffee so that I am not barraged by background noises of honking horns or bank tellers noting that postdated checks are not acceptable?

GENTLE READER: Miss Manners' idea of progress is when the invention of potentially intrusive gadgets is matched by the invention of protective gadgets. That way, with a little effort and a lot of money, we can end up where we were before the cycle started.

Thanks to the cellular telephone, your friends are now able to reach you wherever they happen to be. But thanks to the little button on your telephone, you can turn yours off and let it take their "Thinking of you -- oops, dropped my deposit slip" messages.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: At my baby shower, a friend of mine asked my elderly mother if she was excited for the baby to come. My mother replied in complete seriousness that she was indeed not excited and stated that she already has 20-some grandchildren.

While I realize the truth of this statement, I feel hurt that she could have said as much at my baby shower to my friends. Isn't there a time when not uttering the truth might be the right thing to do? How do I approach her about this, or should I even bother? It seems to sit in the back of my mind.

GENTLE READER: There are plenty of times when not uttering the truth is the right thing to do. One such opportunity is to refrain from telling your mother that you are annoyed at her for an awkwardly worded statement.

The only purpose of that silly question is to allow an opportunity for the expression of pride. That your mother chose to highlight her wealth of grandchildren, when it might have been more graceful to focus only on your child, does not mean she is bored with having grandchildren.

Miss Manners suggests you clear that grudge out of your head. You will soon need that space to sympathize with mothers whose children keep too strict an account of their grievances.

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The tabloids at the supermarket check-out counters must be turning timid. Customers who should be concentrating on how movie stars manage to get disillusioned after only two days of marriage are, instead, focusing their attention on one another.

Miss Manners knows how volatile a situation this is. With nothing to do but stand in line, they turn into etiquette vigilantes. They have no trouble finding outrageous offenses.

There is the trickster who gets into the express lane by counting two lemons as one item. And the criminal who secures an illicit advantage by leaving a half-filled basket in line and then darts off to collect more groceries. And the dummies who try several swipes before they figure out which way to insert their credit cards.

They are generally met with glares that can sizzle steak and sotto voce comments that can be heard as far away as the produce department. But lately, Miss Manners has been hearing more ominous analyses of scofflaw strategies and motives.

"I was at the supermarket waiting in line for one of those automatic teller machines," reported one Gentle Reader, "and I've been waiting for five minutes or more on my lunch break and I'm itching to get back. I was distracted for a moment when I was next in line and this woman and her kid cut in and started using the next available teller.

"Now part of me is thinking, did she just cut in line or what? Then I thought, who is worse, me telling a mother off because she did something so stupid like that and she hopes that people will keep their mouths shut because she has her kid with them, or her because she's doing stuff like that with her child in tow thinking that nobody will say anything?"

The next Gentle Reader was at the deli counter. "Ahead of me was a lady who arrived just before I did. She proceeded to request five different items, all of which had to be sliced to her exact specifications, and one or two of her selections required discussion beforehand. The lady behind the counter was not exactly moving at snappy speed, nor did she request help. It took about 10 minutes, and by the time it was done, three people had lined up behind me.

"But at last the lady moved away, and the counterperson had taken my order, when suddenly the first customer was back, wanting to know about a spot on her bologna -- a spot that was there because it had been cut off the end of the loaf. She asked for substitute slice, which the counter lady did, abandoning me in mid-order.

"I was silently seething at this last, pointless delay when the lady turned to me and said, 'Sorry.' I suppose she expected me to say, 'Oh, that's all right,' but, in fact, it wasn't. I was annoyed. So I said nothing, and did not look at her.

"When she got her bologna back she went away in a huff. Was I wrong in inflicting the silent treatment? I run into this situation often enough that I wonder if the people at the front of the line aren't stretching things out as a strange little power trip."

Miss Manners sympathizes with people who are kept waiting by miscreants or fussbudgets, and has no objection to polite protests, such as "Excuse me, but I believe I'm next" or "Could you finish my order first, please?"

But when she hears dark speculation about a power trip at the deli counter, or the use of a child as a human shield to cut ahead, she worries that there must be a national dearth of headline-worthy sex scandals.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I was told that in a restaurant the man should sit on the outside so as to be closest to placing the order with the waiter or waitress. My boyfriend insists that he sit so that his back is not facing the room. Please advise.

GENTLE READER: Miss Manners must advise you that the gentleman either has serious enemies, or he is making some.

If he wants to keep his back to the wall so that no one can sneak up and attack him, you might want to know why. If he merely likes to sit there and considers it irrelevant that you or anyone else might also prefer that position, you might want to know that. Either way, he is in danger.

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