DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am the heartbroken mother of my only son (and youngest child), who is to be married soon. Due to COVID-19, he and his fiancee are having a backyard wedding. They discuss nothing at all with us.

Her father is unable to pay for his daughter’s wedding. He can only afford to pay for the DJ, photo booth and liquor at the reception, so my son has taken on the bulk of the responsibility. My husband and I are trying to help out: We gave them a lovely Hawaiian honeymoon at one of our lush timeshare resorts, and bought his fiancee’s engagement ring to go with the wedding band. We are paying for the tents, tables, lighting, dance floor package, etc., and will pay for tux rentals, boutonnieres, bouquets and a few other things on the list.

My son claims that this is their wedding, and all we need to do is show up. He didn’t even speak to me about the song for our mother/son dance. He picked it out already.

I was looking forward to making some candle centerpieces for their tables, and my future daughter-in-law seemed to be on the same page with me. All design decisions would be theirs, but since I’d had no other chance to do something personal for their wedding, and have been stuck at home with a disability, making the centerpieces meant a lot to me. Suddenly, I was told they had decided to streamline the wedding, and didn’t need the candles. I am very hurt.

Am I being selfish? Do I have a right to be selfish, or am I wrong? I feel like they are the ones who are being selfish, to not include their parents in any way.

GENTLE READER: While you should expect your son and his fiancee to be grateful for your financial generosity, Miss Manners does not see the connection between that and your question.

She suspects that all have been anesthetized by advertising campaigns (not just ones orchestrated by professionals, but less formal ones by friends and family) that acknowledge the pricelessness of love, friendship and family -- and then go on to state a price.

Your financial generosity is lovely. It is always thoughtful of a son to seek his mother’s advice. The two are not related: You would, rightly, be highly offended if he quoted you a price for choosing the song for your dance.

Please suppress the idea that you have somehow been cheated, and tell your son that it would mean a lot to you if you could do something personal for the wedding. Such an appeal will not only be harder for your son to resist, it will be cheaper.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: How do I address a sympathy card to a widow, whom I have never met, of a client?

GENTLE READER: Reaching out to the widow of someone you knew professionally is a thoughtful way to demonstrate respect for the dead, but it requires a handwritten letter, not a mere card, because there is much to say.

First, introduce yourself, explaining your connection to the deceased, and then express your condolences in the normal way. End with a brief anecdote or recollection about the deceased that shows him in a good light, and of which the widow may not have been aware. Miss Manners considers the extra time this will take to be well spent, and trusts that you will as well.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, dearmissmanners@gmail.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I have become deeply concerned about a new etiquette issue: when to turn on one’s video camera during a conference call.

I spend a great deal of time on conference calls for work, but there seems to be little agreement about when one’s co-workers may view one at home in one’s natural state. Some choose to be visible right away; others will follow, perhaps reluctantly, and some stubbornly remain invisible.

No one actually talks about it; it seems to be a silent, sub rosa struggle. I think that seeing someone’s face makes communication richer and more satisfying, but I can readily imagine that colleagues may not wish to be seen in their messy homes or ill-advised fashion choices.

Many etiquette questions are time-honored and well-understood, with solutions that have been worked out long ago. But not this. Is it unkind to turn on your video when others choose not to? Does this create an unwelcome expectation for others?

GENTLE READER: While technology can solve this problem -- those who are reluctant to be seen at home may use a virtual background -- Miss Manners prefers to address the underlying meaning.

If your meeting were live, would you turn your back on the speaker? Would you be in your pajamas? Would you conduct unrelated business without leaving the room?

Trusting that the answer to all three is “no,” we can then apply these to your videoconference. With important exceptions, etiquette expects participants to be present, attentive -- and visible.

As you have observed, etiquette ceases to function when people make up their own rules. And if everyone agrees on not being visible, there is always the telephone.

However, just as in live meetings, there may be pressing reasons to absent oneself for a time, which can be accomplished by saying, “Excuse me, I have to step out,” and suspending the camera.

As Miss Manners has been working from home for a long time, she is well aware of the challenges. But someone who believes it is possible simultaneously to attend to a child who has strayed from remote learning and to a business meeting, if only others were not watching, is not fooling anyone.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I was involved in a conversation with a stranger at the grocery store. She gave me a compliment, I thanked her and we began to chat while picking out ears of corn.

The issue is that this nice lady made a derogatory racial comment. I am still stumped. I know how to handle this situation with a friend or family member, but I am stumped on how to correct a complete stranger without causing a scene.

GENTLE READER: Your new friend is apparently not as nice as you had hoped. Miss Manners is pleased to hear that you already know how to deal with such comments from friends and family, as she considers that to be more difficult. Dissolving a friendship of four seconds is easy: Give a forced smile and drift away to dry goods.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, dearmissmanners@gmail.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I have an old friend from high school, and we carry on a very cordial correspondence via email and social media. Most of our exchanges are lighthearted and brief. We are both very busy, and I, especially, do not want to get bogged down with the need to read and respond to very long emails.

The problem for me is that my friend loves to travel -- and even more than the travel itself, he loves to write excruciatingly long, detailed trip reports. He emails these out with the expectation that everyone read them AND comment on them. And even though he can’t travel anymore due to COVID-19, he still writes up reports from decades-old trips! Every time he sends one, I want to pull my hair out, and I am already mostly bald!

I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but I can’t think of a tactful way to tell him I would rather read a book in the small amount of spare time I have rather than read and respond to another of his voluminous travel emails.

GENTLE READER: It is not often that Miss Manners has the chance to relieve people of the obligation of responding. You do have to respond to invitations with a definitive acceptance or expression of regret. You do have to respond to presents with letters of thanks. You do have to respond to your friend’s personal messages if you want to maintain the friendship.

But guess what? You do not have to respond to social media postings or mass emails, as these are not tailored to the recipient. They are more like press releases, widely distributed in the hope of catching some interest.

But if that seems callous to you, simply reply with “Nice trip!” This can be done without having to read the accounts. Or tearing out your remaining hair.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I know that dinner rolls and butter are not traditionally part of a formal dinner service, but if I do want to serve butter at the dinner table, how should I do so?

I have a collection of antique butter pats in various patterns that I would love to use, but I am wondering exactly how these were traditionally used. When I have tried to search online for “how to use butter pats,” most of the results refer either to slices of butter from a stick, or to implements for making and shaping butter -- not how to use these tiny plates.

GENTLE READER: Did you bookmark the link about shaping butter? Not if it’s about sculpting a chicken out of butter as a centerpiece, that is. But it may be useful if it has to do with making tiny shapes -- roses or pleated balls, for instance -- to put on those little plates, confusingly themselves called butter pats, which are for serving individual portions of butter.

You can just whack squares from a butter stick, of course. But such plates were generally forgotten, or pressed into humiliating service as inadequate ashtrays, and Miss Manners presumes you would like to make them proud again.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, dearmissmanners@gmail.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)