Dear Abby

read this on your column and have to disagree....Passover really celebrates god's sending the angel of death to kill the Egyptian first born and "passover" the Jew's first born because they put lamb's blood over their doors....i think it should be called "Kill the Egyptian Baby Day"

Thank you, Dear Abby, for supporting PFLAG! DEAR ABBY: Our 14-year-old granddaughter came out as a boy four months ago. The situation has been terrifying because he had thought about su***de. He was hospitalized and now sees a therapist and psychologist and is taking anxiety meds. This has been a trying time for us as well. I love my grandchild but I'm having a very hard time with this. So is my husband. I don't know how to tell my sisters and their husbands about this. One set is pretty understanding; the other set is extremely right-wing and over-the-top conservative. We want to accept our grandchild as who he is identifying as, but we are still bewildered. Thank you for any suggestions you might have for us. — THROWN IN TEXAS DEAR THROWN: I don't think you should rush to share this news with your sisters and their husbands. The announcement should come from your grandchild when he is ready. As to how you and your husband should handle it, the organization PFLAG has recently come out with a free publication titled, "Supporting Your LGBTQ+ Grandchild." It's a quick and easy read, and you may find the information it contains helpful. Find it at pflag.org or by calling 202-467-8180.

In response to "Paying Respects in CA " in today's paper, I hope you went to the funeral, it will never be forgotten by the family. I had a similar experience and have been amazed at the impact even years later. Funerals are about the living, not the dead.

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I invited a friend for lunch. She cancelled due to a legitimate double booking. Who is responsible now for setting up the lunch date again? Me or her? What’s the etiquette these days?

I was thinking of a different reply to "Needs validation in New England" because my hubby also fails to give the kind of validation of her physical attractiveness that she craves. Different people notice different things, and my husband doesn't tend to notice or judge visual things. It's a little like being tone-deaf so not noticing the beauty in harmonies. Can she love him and herself in spite of his not appreciating her physical attractiveness the way she wants him to, forgiving him in the knowledge that he also never judges her harshly for failing to be pretty enough?

I am continually astounded that your go-to advice for every marriage in trouble is to threaten to divorce and then do it. Your mother and aunt consistently encouraged working together on issues and getting marriage counseling. I am sure there are zillions of marriages, and families, that were saved because of this. You seem hostile toward marriage and hoping everyone falls apart. "Just QUIT." Not the attitude one would hope for from the world's best-known advice columnist.

"Discovery of neighbor's past shocks new friend" "Dear Abby, I recently learned my neighbor shot and killed her two young kids (14 and 2)" and served only six years. I don't know how to feel about her now. Abby's response: Why are you snooping around researching your neighbor and there's probably a good reason your neighbor was released early. My Comment - if "Abby" is a real person, she is one of the biggest dumbf**ks on the planet. How this column is still being published is beyond me. Hey Abby - killing children is not a good thing and "snooping" on your neighbor is not the problem here. Find someone with half a brain to write this column because yours turned to mush a long time ago.

How do I deal with a husband that wants to spend way more on one daughter than the other for christmas? Oldest gets silver and turqois necklace and theres talk of more gifts. The younger gets a $75 gift card to go kart place...to be used with her boyfriend. Really???

Dear Abby Your response to "annoyed in kentucky" was obnoxiously privileged. When people who have been poor all their lives are demonstrative about spending, they're looking for validation and acceptance. Advising your reader to request her friend not "waste" time with her "insignificant" talk about new things she's bought was as tone-deaf as it gets and will end that friendship...and rightly so. That person is hurting and needs to be made to feel they belong. Telling them their behavior is an insignificant waste of time to their friends? No. Such a response can only be generated by someone who has never known the terrifying anxiety of being afraid you will never, ever "measure up" because you weren't born to materially successful parents. Worse, it's the manifestation of one of the deepest traumatic fears people who have lived in long-term poverty have: the fear that even if they get money, they won't have the trappings and mannerisms and little social cues available to conduct themselves like anything but a poor person. This is, fundamentally, an act of gaslighting the trauma of poverty. You are literally advising your reader to make her friend's worst nightmares come true. She's risking vulnerability to someone she trusts in the hopes that she's "doing it right" - a passive-aggressive search for guidance in matters she's ashamed to need guidance in - and here you come to tell her she's not just doing it wrong, she's doing it wrong in a way that paints a fifty-foot neon sign flashing I AM A POOR on her head that only "classy" people can read/ If you want to HELP that woman, *give her what she needs.* Tell her that her purchases are well-chosen. Tell her you wish you had one even if you don't. And GENTLY, WHILE slowly relieving the anxiety of seeking approval, guide her into understanding through example. THAT is how to help a friend. The advice you gave is advice on how to avoid the unpleasantness of being reminded someone you know used to be A Poor. Shame on you. No love, A Poor

I read your column every day. I disagree with your answer for "Left Out In the East" because it's the Bride's Special Day and she has made her decision for dad not to bring a guest. It's Her day, HER decision. Dad's lover should NOT go without the bride's okay. Period. There could be a terrible scene and ruin the day!

Wedding Rings after 31 Years: Dear Abby, I'm writing from the Birmingham Suburbs, Alabama: I seem to have never recovered from my wedding rings being stolen from me and hocked by my son due to his op**te addiction during his teens. It’s been now near a decade since I’ve lost them, and I still feel a great loss. I just don’t feel connected as I used to be the mother, the wife, any more without them; and my husband has never offered to replace them, even with a cheap gold band, as we constantly now have more pressing financial matters. His wedding ring was stolen and hocked as well, so neither of us wear one any longer. Our son never admitted he did this until many years later, so we were never able to recover them. We married having a very simple gold band bought by me that was around 75 dollars in 1990, for him, but my wedding set was handed down from him to me was handed down from generations of his family. It would have been valued at near $3000 at the time I’m sure. I do have photos. On our fifth anniversary, in 1995, I felt so bad about him only having a 75 dollar wedding ring, it was real gold, but it was warping due to wear because it was so thin, and I was so in love with him that I bought him a 700 dollar thick gold band, beveled smooth and shiny with a silver rim, and inscribed, Forever and Always, Lori and John 1990, at least I think that’s what it said. The reason I did it is that it would never warp, it was so thick. My memory of the inscription wanes, but I do remember it did not turn out as my heart intended it to as far as the inscription. I only remember I could have worded it better. I think it could have said Forever and Always, Lori. Since addiction and our youngest son’s mental illness have hit our family, gifts of any kind never happen, even on Christmas, Birthdays, or Anniversaries. I’m now feeling as if none of it ever mattered in the first place, but I cannot help remembering the times with it did, how special they were, and when my boyfriend of only four months presented me with his third-generation wedding set in 1990, handed down to him from his mother with her blessing, meant the world to me, and I was completely inconsolable with joy and tears. I’ll admit, I was at the time pregnant with our eldest son, who is now an engineer, so I was unsure if he was marrying me because he had to, or because he really loved me. After 31 years, it’s a safe assumption that my husband loves me and I still love him as I did the first time I felt butterflies upon his visits to my office, yes, we fell in love at work We were both employed by Pemco Aeroplex, him an Auburn Grad in Aviation Management, and me, a more than four year veteran of the USN, an aviation mechanic, troubleshooter, and plane captain. We both spoke Spanish, as he minored in it at Auburn, and I took it in high school from grades 7-11, and was stationed in Spain by my own design, and lived in town to further my vocabulary and experiences. Those rings that were given to me by my now husband of 31 years with the blessing of his mother and all her ancestors before her, humbled me, and made me feel valid for the first time in my life. I felt needed, wanted, essential, and that all my dreams had come true, to find a man that will truly love me as I love him, and that has a family that has embraced me with the honor of passing me the rings to the next generation. Those rings were a symbol of all those feelings, and of holding the past, and the future of them for my sons, and their legacy on my finger at the same time, it felt like passing on family wealth, even though it would never bring monetary value to me. The center diamond was over a carot, studded with at least five diamonds on each side of it, and the engagement ring was studded with smaller diamonds. They had gold bands and silver settings for the stones. Of our two sons, one is now a successful engineer, with two children, my grand-babies, who I cannot see, because of my continuing support of his little brother. I think he feels we should cut him off and disown his brother in order to be welcomed and accepted. The other still lives with us in our small two-bedroom, one-bath house in a Birmingham Suburb, having downsized over the years from a 4/3 in the best school system and lowest crime rate area in our state to a 2/1 just to keep our son from being influenced by local dealers. We lost our family home due to the 2008 recession, job losses, a special needs child first experiencing depression, failed a grade in school in the ninth grade at this top school, then with addiction, and we now have a tiny house (1100 sq. ft) in order to stay in a good area. We tried other areas with bigger homes before this, but landing in between the 4/3 house to the 2/1 was painful. It’s not that simple to abandon a child, though now 28, that has developed schizophrenia, cannot work, must go to the methadone clinic 7 days a week or fall back into he**in addiction, cannot find a psychiatrist that accepts Medicaid, nor even one that accepts his full high deductible Blue Cross Blue Sheild plan that we were finally able to get him back on my husband’s company plan due to him being over 26 and a disabled adult living with us. And we still can’t find a doctor for him. I call for an appointment to answering machines. I work the menu for new patients and appointments, all lines are busy, leave a message. There is never a return call, or on the ones I get, they say they are only accepting children under 12, it pays better. My story in totality sucks, but I think sharing parts of it might help others if you give a meaningful strategy to deal with what I’m dealing with. I give you permission to focus on whatever works best for your column. I just felt it was important to give you all I’ve got. You can pick and choose what to share, or not, cut and paste at will. Just help me and others is all I ask. Should I feel such a loss because my rings, our family heritage are now gone, and I'll never be able to pass it down? Sincerely, Lori