Annie Lane

Dear Readers: Thank you for all your responses to “Letting Go Is Hard to Do.” We have undeniably wonderful parents among our readership. Here are two of my favorite letters.

Dear Annie: This is in response to “Letting Go Is Hard to Do,” who was worried about the choices her daughter might be making at college after seeing a questionable bank transaction.

I am also the mom of a college-age student. We have had a joint account ever since my son was a senior in high school.

I made a promise to myself to not allow our joint checking accounts to be a way to peek into his world. Trust me, it is very hard not to look — especially when I am transferring money to his account. If his spending info pops up, I look away and put my hand over so I cannot see.

It is a don’t-see-don’t-tell trust that I never told him I had in place. He is very independent, and if I’d have questioned things, he would have started to mistrust me. There is always a way teens get around roadblocks; it’s called taking cash out of the account and spending it that way or buying a Visa gift card with the cash.

It gets easier as they get older to not look. I encourage you to think about why you need to look at how she spends her money. My son was no angel for a good four to five years. But he trusts me now, and when the really hard/big things come up, he comes to me for comfort and direction, and to ease his fears. Let a little more of the string go, and when your bird flies, you will be rewarded with trust and honesty. — Money and Trust

Dear Annie: I want to be as polite as I can in this reply to the mom who’s concerned about her 18-year-old daughter essentially just being an 18-year-old away at college.

With all due respect, Letting Go — because you sound like a great mom and you seem to have a good bond with your daughter — maybe drop the “God’s gift” talk, stop thinking about what your religion teaches about birth control and just ask your kid if she’s OK and let her know you’re there to talk.

She may not be as interested as you are in what God and your religious community’s leadership thinks about her sex life. Meanwhile, here on Earth, you’re both humans who love each other. Lead with that.

In terms of sex addiction and so-called addictive behaviors, aka symptoms of a disease called addiction, which aren’t “behaviors” in an addict but rather compulsions, again, be honest. Talk about it head-on. Don’t minimize it if you’re truly worried.

And if you’re not, let her live her life and keep your opinions to yourself. You can either have a relationship that is close, honest and real or have some mix of hope, denial and religious idealism. But the half-measure of trying to have both almost guarantees the first will be lost, which would be a shame.

Keep your life between you and God, her life between you and her, and trust God to know how to handle the rest. God is too busy caring for billions of souls to really care much about birth control and sex toys. Take God’s lead. — Dad of a Teen, Too

Dear Annie: My wife of 44 years passed away after a nine-day bout with cancer.

We started dating at 16, went to college together, married at 20 and graduated at 21, when we started our life together for real.

“Sally” passed away two months after her 65th birthday. I will turn 65 in a month. I was to retire in three months, while Sally was already retired. Our house is paid for and sits by a beautiful creek in small-town Georgia, and moving has been suggested. I like it here.

All our plans for traveling and having a life together in retirement disappeared in a matter of days.

We had saved a pile of money to do all we couldn’t do until we retired. Now I don’t know what to do. I was her George Bailey, and she was my Mary Hatch. I never had a wandering eye. I don’t have a long-lost girlfriend from high school. Our circle of close friends is small and mostly live out of town.

My daughter and son are grown and pretty much have their own lives. I refuse to spend the last 20 years alone without female companionship. I liked being married. Single life is not my cup of tea. I know I can’t replace my wife. Some accuse me of that.

She was educated, a retired teacher. She knew who Emily Post was and watched Julia Child. Together, we watched “Jeopardy” nightly. She loved to travel, saying, “Travel feeds the soul.” She played bridge, volunteered at the hospital and church, and sent food to shut-ins. She would watch football with me and enjoy it if I would watch Hallmark movies with her.

During the pandemic, I began teaching myself guitar, and she would let me practice in the bedroom while she sat in bed reading. She remarked, “I would rather have you with me making a racket than somewhere else causing a racket.”

Should I try to forget her now that she is gone and look for another type of person to spend my life with? Should I look for another woman like her? Should I pursue her first cousin with similar qualities who lost her husband last year? Are there women out there like her who are good-hearted and looking for a stable, educated man with whom to have a good time?

How do I connect with them? I can’t go back to the neighborhood front-yard football game again, be tackled by her, injure my shoulder and have her be the first girl to come to my house worried about me, which is how our love affair began. Help! — Lost at Potato Creek

Dear Lost: Your love affair sounds like something out of the movies. I am so sorry for your loss. Of course you are lost and confused, and that is understandable. You are not supposed to have all the answers to what the future will look like right now. Find other widowers who can understand what you are going through and help you work through your grief. The healthier you get with your own emotions, the healthier your next relationship will be.

You will never replace your wife. You will now have a new normal, which will look different from your old normal, and that is perfectly natural. Instead of trying to find a replacement for your wife, try to remember all of your beautiful memories, which will live inside you for a lifetime.

Editor’s note: Send your questions for Annie Lane to dearannie@creators.com. To find out more about Annie Lane and read features by other Creators Syndicate columnists and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate website at www.creators.com.