Dear Lisi: My husband died after a few years of deteriorating health. They call it a battle because you feel like you’re at war with your body, never knowing where and when the enemy will strike. It was exhausting for all of us.
His parents took a three-month trip, and a break from what they left behind. I decided to sell our house and move to a different neighbourhood for a change. I’ve been outside on all the recent nice days, gardening, painting and cleaning up the property.
A man and his young son have walked by several times and said hello. They stop to talk about the flowers, or he shows his son my tools, and once they sat and watched a snail for almost 10 minutes. I hear them mention “Mommy” but in a way that makes me think she’s not part of their present. And I think I see sadness in the corner of his eyes.
But maybe I’m seeing things. I feel he wants to talk. How do I allow him that opportunity?
Sadness all around
I’m so sorry for your loss. I’m sure you’re still grieving, and I hope you have some counselling to help you navigate your new life as a widow. As for his parents, I strongly suggest you keep some contact with them, to keep your husband part of you.
You might be projecting, or you might just be in tune to other people suffering loss. You won’t know until you know. You could invite this man to have a cup of coffee on your front step while you both watch his son play in your yard. That’s safe, casual and easygoing. You could tell him why you moved there, sharing your experience of loss. You could ask him casually why he’s always on “duty.”
I would just take it slow. If nothing else, you have a friendly neighbour to chat with. That’s a win.
Dear Lisi: My friend stopped talking to me. She’s mad at me about something she thinks I did, and even though I’ve explained to her that it wasn’t me — and I can prove it — she still won’t talk to me. It’s been several months. I’m over it because, what kind of friend doesn’t want to believe you?
The only problem is that I was also good friends with her cousin who is now “not allowed” to talk to me. I didn’t realize she wasn’t talking to me at first because she was away for a semester. But I heard she was coming home so I reached out. No reply. I reached out again when I heard she was home. Nothing. I still didn’t twig.
Then I saw her at a bar. I ran over to her, and she gave me the cold shoulder, but in a weird way, not mean. I was so confused. I went back to my friends but was really hurt. About 20 minutes later, one of her friends came up and said, “She can’t talk to you because of your fight with her cousin.” And walked away.
This is ridiculous! What do I do?
Larger than necessary
I agree – this is ridiculous. What kind of control does your friend have over her cousin?!? You need to talk to your (ex) friend. Prove to her again that you didn’t do what she thinks you did, and then say something like, “I have proven to you that I’m innocent. You choose not to believe. That’s your prerogative. But let everyone else believe what they want to believe.”
If your friend comes back, great. If she doesn’t, then you’re correct in not caring. Show her cousin your truth. If she can’t stand up to her cousin, then you’re going to have to forget her too.
FEEDBACK Regarding the coach who crossed a line (March 25):
Reader #1 – “This coach’s behaviour raises a big red flag. I would advise the parent to follow their instincts and pay close attention to future interactions with this coach. The unique treatment of their child by the coach is odd. They should reiterate to their child that it’s inappropriate for another adult to ask a child to keep information from their parents.
“Hopefully it’s not the case but asking a child to keep secrets from their parents is an early tactic pedophiles use to ‘test’ a child’s loyalty to their authority and form a bond.”
Been There
Reader #2 – “When a situation is this bad, you don’t talk to the coach. You go above his head and contact the organization and report the situation. And you don’t give him one more chance. You just do it.”
Lisi Tesher is an advice columnist based in Toronto. Send your questions to [email protected]
