Dear Ann Landers, I live in a nice suburb and have two well-adjusted children, a 6-year-old boy and a 2-year-old girl. The problem is the 12-year-old boy who lives three doors away. He really is strange. I rarely see him with children his own age. He often plays with kids who are much younger than he is, including my own.
Other neighbors have mentioned this boy's peculiar and unpredictable nature. They do not trust him. He once bit a child and knocked another boy off his bicycle. Recently, I had a basketball hoop installed in our driveway. As soon as the hoop went up, the boy started to play there. After a week of showing up in our driveway, I told him he had to ring our bell and ask permission. After repeated attempts to get permission, with little success, he finally got the message. He then began peering in our windows like a Peeping Tom to see whether anyone was home so he could ring our bell. This spooked my wife.
Frankly, I don't want this boy around my house or my children. His father is a friendly guy but travels three weeks out of the month. His mother is cold and distant. Meanwhile, the boy continues to hang around our property.
Should I discuss my concern with the boy's father or simply continue to discourage his presence around our house? Please help. -- Worried Parent in Illinois
Dear Worried Parent, That child needs to be seen by a professional for evaluation. His behavior suggests that he has some problems that need attention. You should talk to the boy's father about your concerns, which sound legitimate to me. Meanwhile, make sure that an adult is present whenever he plays with your children.
Dear Ann Landers, A few years ago, you printed a poem in your column. I do not remember the name of it, but some of the lines were: "Kisses aren't promises" and "Even sunshine burns if you get too much."
I would dearly love to have another copy of that poem because it touched me deeply. I hope you can find it and print it again. -- L.B. in Cordova, Tenn.
Dear L.B., That poem is one of the most requested by my readers. I am pleased to print it again for you and others who have asked. Here it is:
After a While
by Veronica A. Shoffstall
After a while, you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,
And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning
And company doesn't mean security,
And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts
And presents aren't promises,
And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open
With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,
And you learn to build all your roads on today
Because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans.
And futures have a way of falling down in midflight.
After a while, you learn
That even sunshine burns if you get too much.
So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure ...
That you really are strong.
And you really do have worth.
And you learn and learn ...
With every goodbye, you learn.
Dear Ann Landers, I recently read the letter from the daughter whose mother was lonely, bitter and dependent on her for a social life. You said Mom needed some extracurricular activities. May I make a few suggestions?
I am a 79-year-old widow with the physical disabilities that often come with age. A year ago, my children gave me an old computer. It wasn't too hard to learn, though I confess it was frustrating at first. Every Sunday evening, our family gets together in a chat room so I can talk to my children, their spouses and my grandchildren, no matter where we are. I've learned to surf the 'Net and can send electronic musical greeting cards to nieces and nephews. They also send me interesting and funny things to let me know they are thinking of me. I am having so much fun, there is no time to be lonely.
If that mother doesn't want a computer, she may be interested in tracing her family genealogy and collecting family photographs. Last Christmas, I sent my children an album of their childhood pictures, awards and report cards. They said it was their favorite gift.
Being alone can be depressing, if you let it. I keep my aches and pains to myself and never criticize. I just listen, smile and pray a lot. -- Cyber Grandma
Dear Cyber Gram, You sound like my kind of woman: No leaning on others to entertain you; you entertain yourself. Your closing mantra is a pearl of wisdom. Four cheers, lady!
Dear Ann Landers, My husband and I retired to Florida a few years ago, leaving our three grown children back in our hometown up north. We are having a wonderful life, and my husband is as happy as a lark. I also should be happy. Everything here is great. The weather is beautiful. We are enjoying good health and have met some lovely people. We both do some volunteer work, so please do not assume we are selfishly wasting our lives.
The problem is our children. They aren't kids anymore, but each of them is in trouble. One daughter is married and "no longer in love." She has a boyfriend. Another daughter is living with a younger man I know she'll have to support for the rest of her life because he doesn't believe in work. She also has his two teenagers living with them. Another daughter is going through a miserable divorce. She has a son who surely will end up in jail again if he isn't there already.
I should be having the time of my life, but there is such a sadness around me that I fight it daily. I don't know what to do, Ann. All these troubled adult children are getting the best of me. I try to hide my anxiety from my husband because I don't want him to be as miserable as I am. What should I do, Ann? Please throw me a lifeline. -- Heavy-Hearted in the Palms
Dear H.H., First, you should discuss with your husband what is going on with the children. They're his, too, you know. It will help to have his support. Next, you need some counseling to help you cope with your anxiety. (An antidepressant could be a great help.)
Your counselor will explain that you are not responsible for the lives of your adult children.
It is time to let them untangle their own messes and grow up. It may be difficult not to become involved in their problems, but it could be the biggest favor you ever will do for them. In the meantime, you deserve to enjoy your retirement years. Don't let your children spoil them for you.
Dear Ann Landers, I have been thinking about that letter from "Left-Brained in South Carolina." He complained that his wife and children were terribly absent-minded, constantly losing keys, glasses and wallets. They put empty peanut butter jars back in the cabinet and containers in the fridge without the tops screwed on. He once found his wife's purse in the freezer.
My wife has the same problem. She is not stupid, just forgetful. (I once found her handbag in the oven.) I have a few suggestions that could help families worldwide avoid domestic strife:
Keep a desk with a drawer that locks. Anything I don't want my wife to get her hands on goes into that drawer. If I leave it unlocked, it will be my fault if the glue, scissors, pens and stamps disappear.
Have several sets of extra keys. Every year, I take my wife's keys and have five copies made. We have a key rack next to the front door that holds five sets. A sixth set is in my locked desk drawer. When my wife loses the fourth set, I go back to the locksmith.
Figure out where you want the remote control to be, and make sure it stays there. Ours is on the table next to the couch. It is secured to the table with a long length of sturdy cord and duct tape. She can drop the remote anywhere in the room, and I can always find it.
Buy the cheapest pens you can find, and get 20 at a time. I put ours in a can next to the telephone. Every three weeks, I go out and buy new ones. I don't know what my wife does with the pens, and I don't ask because I don't care.
Buy duplicates of whatever item keeps disappearing. In our house, it was a corkscrew. I just kept buying a new one every time I went to the grocery store. At the end of a year, some drawers had four corkscrews, and some had none, but I could usually find one when I needed it.
I hope these suggestions will help others. I love my wife, and my flexibility has made a big difference in our relationship. -- Ted in California
Dear Ted, Flexibility? I'd say you are a candidate for sainthood. Your wife is one lucky lady.
Gem of the Day: You know you are a senior citizen when you don't care where your wife goes as long as you don't have to go with her.
