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Dear Ann Landers,
hat wisdom, consolation or advice can you give parents in their 50s who have worked hard to achieve the Ameri-can dream, loved their kids and tried to give them the best world ever? We are also the unhappiest. Many of our children are on drugs, unemployed dropouts, mi-grants, drifters, angry with the world, hostile toward us and out of joint with society. How much and for how long should parents pay, in terms of self-recrimination, worry, disappointment and financial sup-port? How can we enjoy the years that are left to us now that we have more money and fewer business pressures and are still in fairly good health? It's heartbreaking to see our kids maladjusted, disoriented and un-able to cope. We can't help but feel we are to blame. After all, they are our sons and daughters. We raised them. Where is the cutoff line? Do you have any answers? -Meant Well Parents

Dear Meant Well,
To you and the thousands of other parents who are miserable because of "what you have done" to your children, I say this: Stop beating yourselves. You did the best you could with the tools at hand-inexperience, clay feet, the works. No one knows why some children turn out to be champions in spite of parents who provide pre-cious little emotional nourishment, while other kids-loved, wanted, tenderly nurtured, with all the so-called advantages-turn out per-verse, estranged and unable to cope. I have come to believe in the genetic factor that has been ignored by many behavioral "experts." We all inherit our nervous systems, and if the nervous system is fragile, it places severe limitations on what a per-son can tolerate. Certain individuals are born survivors. They can withstand life's harshest blows and emerge the stronger for it. Others crumble in the face of minor adversity. The same fire that melts butter can make steel strong. And let us not overlook personal responsibility. I am sick of hearing children blame their parents for their messed-up lives. People with all sorts of handicaps can and do make it in this demanding and competi-tive world. WAKE UP A NII SMELL THE IIIIEFEE! I 4 I For those who are hooked on dope, there are drug-abuse centers with trained personnel, eager and waiting to help. For individuals who need professional counseling, there are mental-health clinics. The self-help groups do a remarkable job-and they are free: Alco-holics Anonymous, Gamblers Anonymous, Recovery, Inc. The list is endless. Enough of this "You damaged me, now take care of me" nonsense. It's a copout. Parental guilt laid on by our kids is so thick you can cut it with a knife. It serves no purpose except to perpetuate financial and emotional dependence and create a climate of hostility, punishment and ultimate failure. God helps those who help themselves. It's OK, Son. Everybody Does It! When Johnny was 6 years old, he was with his father when they were caught speeding. His father handed the officer a $5 bill with his driver's license. "It's OK, son," his father said as he drove off. "Every-body does it." When he was 8, he was permitted to sit in on a family seminar, presided over by Uncle George, on how to shave points off an income- tax return. "It's OK, kid," his uncle said. "Everybody does it." When he was 9, his mother took him to his first theater production. The box-office man couldn't find any seats until his mother discovered an extra $2 in her purse. "It's OK, son," she said. "Everybody does it." When he was 12, he broke his glasses on the way to school. His Aunt Francine convinced the insurance company that they had been stolen and collected $27. "It's OK, kid," she said. "Everybody does it." When he was 15, he made right guard on the high school football team. His coach showed him how to block and at the same time grab the opposing end by the shirt so the official couldn't see it. "It's OK, kid," the coach said. "Everybody does it." When he was 16, he took his first summer job at the neighborhood supermarket. His assignment was to put overripe tomatoes in the bot-tom of the boxes and the good ones on top where they would show. "It's OK, kid," the manager said. "Everybody does it." When he was 18, Johnny and a neighbor applied for a college schol-arship. Johnny was a marginal student. His neighbor was in the upper 3 percent of his class, but he couldn't play right guard. Johnny got the scholarship. "It's OK," they told him. "Everybody does it." When he was 19, he was approached by an upperclassman who of-fered the test answers for $3. "It's OK, kid," he said. "Everybody does it." 142 ANN LANDERS Johnny was caught and sent home in disgrace. "How could you do this to your mother and me?" his father asked. "You never learned any-thing like this at home." His aunt and uncle also were shocked. If there's anything the adult world can't stand, it's a kid who cheats. Well, you say, now the kids are grown and living on their own. It seems life still has a few surprises in store for us:



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Dear Readers,
, whatever they needed I provided. What really hurt my son and I the most was the obituary - we were not mentioned at all. Our friends (mine and hers) were appalled. I was embarrassed and upset for not just me, but for my son-who loved her also. I never been so upset. Her x-husband put his wife and kids and their grandchildren in the obituary, who my girlfriend barely knew. They live an hour away from us. I know its silly to be mad over a little section of the newspaper, but it still hurts. Will time let this devastating loss of her and this article ever go away? I am so angry at this whole situation, its not like we can go and rewrite an obituary notice.

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"Sensual pleasures have the fleeting brilliance of a comet; a happy marriage has the tranquillity of a lovely sunset."
-Ann Landers