Dear Bel
I feel judged.
Many people write of finding new partners when their families are not supportive. Maybe it’s understandable that adult children object to the new partner, but do you think they have the right?
Annie, who was my soulmate for 42+ years, died four years ago from cancer. Her death occurred at the New Year, and it was a time when I felt there would be no happiness ahead. We were both devastated, as were our two children and all of our friends.
Annie was loved by everyone, but especially me. We met as teenagers and knew from the start that this was ‘it’. Annie was the love of my life — The One.
But within three months of Annie’s death I went out for dinner with Pat, who once worked with Annie. Annie had been visited a lot by Pat during those dark and sad times. To say thanks, and also to be alone, I invited her to dinner. Pat, who was an older woman, seemed calm and wise.
What if I had a first date? No. However, our friendship was deep and warm. After we started to see each other, our love blossomed. Naturally, people didn’t approve. It was a very difficult time — because I was still grieving for my wife yet felt protective of my ‘girlfriend’.
I couldn’t bear the suggestion that Pat was wrecking memories of Annie. We were both property owners so they couldn’t accuse her of gold-digging!
It was going to be difficult for both my daughter and son, but she seemed less judgemental.
My son and I exchanged some hard words, I’m afraid. I explained to them that I and their mother had been waiting 18 months for us to be ready to go.
Annie told me that she would love for me to find someone else and live happily. I needed family and friends to understand that I had cried all my tears during those long months of fear and diagnosis and treatment — and was ready to move on.
Pat and I married very quietly this year and feel very contented to grow old together in our personal ‘paradise’.
While people are starting to come around (I think), I feel still judged and so mad at my son. Do you agree?
Jeremy
Bel addresses a question asked by a man about his son’s resentment at him falling in love once again.
The first thing I’ll say is a huge, heartfelt ‘Congratulations’ on your new happiness. The world is full of bad, sad news but yours is joyful and I’m delighted for you and Pat.
Love in older age can be such a beautiful thing and you tell me in your longer letter that Pat is thrilled to be able to be ‘Granny’ to your daughter’s children, with her very own special name.
There is always love. . . Oh, do let’s all join that rousing chorus and not care that the song is now a cliché!
As Christmas approaches we all need to focus on light and love, and there’s plenty of both in your story.
My motto — when in doubt, smile, be positive and look forwards, not back — has carried me through setbacks and sadness. I think your daughter agrees with me when she feels happy her father has moved forward into companionable contentment.
Your son will take a bit longer, but have faith that he’ll get used to things. His mother is still missing him. That is how it feels.
Don’t use any more venomous words. Keep calm, and your son will learn from you. You tell me that Pat puts fresh flowers by Annie’s photo in your sitting room. Make sure your son knows, so he understands Pat’s quality. Consider a Christmas reunion. Love after bereavement can knock the one newly in love for six — dazed and confused by the potent mixture of romance, gratitude and guilt.
A fast relationship with someone new can, unfortunately, seem to bring into doubt the love of a long time. It shouldn’t. Personally I don’t really believe in the idea of ‘The One’ because we can never know how we might feel about people we’ve never met.
Love after loss can sometimes be a wonderful surprise. This is especially true if the new partner is completely different from the one who was lost. I get the feeling that’s the case with Pat. But the point is that life will continue.
Interestingly I wrote about this in Femail Magazine back in the summer, expressing my belief that people who have learned the habit of loving within a wonderful relationship always remain ‘in training’ to carry the love onwards — and often quite soon.
That’s what happened with you, Jeremy. You know it’s not the same love, nor does it call into question what went before.
Pat fell in love with you because it was the result of years of practice. You both deserve your joy.
I’m so sad I can’t stop binge eating
Dear Bel
A single mom of three is 51. I have been married for ten years. My weight has risen to a very unhealthy level after many years of emotional binging. To improve my health, I must lose weight. I cannot. I never go out (very low income) and don’t see friends as I’m either working or looking after the children — one disabled, all under 13.
It makes me feel ashamed and repulsive. My family think I’m greedy and selfish for not losing weight. My years of addiction to alcohol were triggered by two sexual assaults that I suffered as a teenager. Although I have anxiety and depression, therapy is not affordable for me.
Problem is that I tend to eat when I am stressed out or down and use food as a way of getting through the day. A hug from someone who loves me is what I really need. I’d love the safety a loving partner can give but know I’ll never have it looking like this.
I get very anxious about my future if I can’t change things. I want to be here for many more years for my children and my parents (mid-80s) who’ll soon need more support. People ask why can’t I lose weight for the sake of my children, and I feel guilty and inadequate when yet again I fail. Could you please offer some guidance?
LINDA
You ask an impossible question —since you answer it yourself: ‘For the sake of my health I need to lose a lot of weight but I simply cannot do this.’
That’s a thundering negative — so here’s some tough talking: if you are so utterly, absolutely determined that you ‘simply cannot’ tackle your chronic weight problem, then why are you bothering to write to me?
Bel Mooney has more to say about the Daily Mail
Ah, but there’s a change of tone at the beginning of that last paragraph, with that hopeful word ‘if’. I felt like cheering when I read, ‘If I cannot change things’ because there you open the door to possibility, suggesting that the issue is still something that can be worked on. That’s where we have to start.
You describe a sad, stressful past. All of us should be aware (and I do mean ‘should’ because there’s now so much information about obesity) that people usually over-eat and become chronically obese through struggling with mental health or other problems, when food and/or booze becomes a crutch.
How many of us say, when tired or fed up, ‘Oh, I need a drink’? Yes. People might be reluctant to make quick judgments, and instead look at their lives.
Having said that, I sometimes notice people’s supermarket shopping trollies and want to weep. You’re hard up, Linda, but I wonder how much money you spend weekly on junk (meaning fatty, processed or too sweet) food. You know the truth, don’t you?
I understand you can’t afford therapy, but you know quite well that you need to start your very own ‘treatment’ by looking ruthlessly at your food shopping, for your own sake and your children’s health too.
Is it possible that they are also overweight. You want to stick around for them and for your elderly parents, therefore there’s no choice but to call time on killing yourself with food.
Although it seems simple to state that diet and exercise are important, they can be difficult for some people. But it’s the truth, even if extremely hard. Either you accept that there are many people who have chronic conditions like yours and manage to shed weight, or you can continue living as it is.
There’s plenty of free advice online. Look at nhs.uk/live-well/healthy-weight/start-the-nhs-weight-loss-plan. Notes can be made about the information and taken notes.
Of course you won’t go jogging any time soon, but you can make yourself walk a certain number of steps, increasing them each week.
A pedometer can be purchased for as little as a tenner. And take a can of beans in each hand and start lifts until you’re puffed. Make it fun by asking one child to assist with the exercises.
There’s also a lot to read at verywellhealth.com/coping-with-obesity-4690812. It is worth taking the time to read it. Also look at weightmatters.co.uk/online- therapy-online-counselling.
Start a food diary, because listing everything (to the last biscuit) can encourage change — through a bit of a shock. A friend or family member could go with you shopping. It’d be amazing. Linda, you have to get started. Don’t blame your past; take charge of your future.
And finally… An amazing response to a grieving dad
There was such a moving response to last week’s main letter from Brian, who with his wife was dreading the first Christmas without their daughter Sarah. We are grateful for the kindness of your fellow feelings.
Many readers shared their personal sorrow, sympathy, and advice. Terry expressed a beautiful sentiment when he wrote: ‘Please share with them the thought that their Sarah was not only clearly adored, but unbelievably lucky to have had Brian and his wife’s involvement in her life.
‘Although cut tragically short, her (their) lives were truly blessed with so much love, which is what any of us can ask for.’
I’ve combined your emails into a document for Brian and his wife, and know they’ve been very touched. Most important, I heard back from Brian himself — so pleased to read my response to his very sad story.
He wanted me to know that their son has been ‘their rock’, that they will be seeing the family at one stage at Christmas, and that yes, they will put up a little tree for Sarah.
I was honoured that he sent me a picture of Sarah’s plaque in their garden, complete with her favourite little gnomes and bright metal butterflies.
A Facebook friend agreed with me that creating a ‘shrine’ can be very helpful. She pointed out that if people shy away from religious terminology they can call it a ‘special nook’.
Regular readers of this column will know I think rituals and ‘signs’ are very important. Why else do people decorate graves? Just quietly marking the anniversary of a loved one’s death by placing a posy in front of a photograph, playing special music or lighting a candle can bring great comfort.
I live by what I preached. Yesterday, the stillborn son would have been 46. I, like every other day, went to the special spot in the garden for a few words.
It makes me feel calm and strangely blessed — and I wish that for all of you, too.