Dear Ann Landers,
I am the grandmother of a child who was put up for adoption. It was an open adoption, which means the adoptive parents send my son photographs and letters so he knows how his child is doing. The adoptive parents are lovely people, and my grandson is doing wonderfully. Not a day goes by that I don't thank God for them. Every Christmas and birthday, I send gifts to my grandson because I want him to know I care about him. The adoptive parents have a second child, and I make sure to send gifts to that child, too. The rest of my family disagrees with this. They say I should distance myself from the boy and stop keeping in touch with the adoptive parents. Tell me, Ann, are they right? Is it a mistake for me to maintain a relationship with this child? The adoptive parents have never asked me to back off, nor has my son objected to my presence in the boy's life. Christmas will be here soon, and I would appreciate your opinion. -- Torn in Texas

Dear Texas,
Who, exactly, is "the rest of the family," and what business is it of theirs? These people who are giving you this bum advice should be told you are dealing with the matter in your own way and that all parties involved are satisfied with how things are being handled. (That is shorthand for MYOB, and if they don't get it, spell it out for them.) Keep reading for a different kind of Grandma story:

Dear Ann Landers,
A few years ago, you printed a poem in your column. I do not remember the name of it, but some of the lines were: "Kisses aren't promises" and "Even sunshine burns if you get too much." I would dearly love to have another copy of that poem because it touched me deeply. I hope you can find it and print it again. -- L.B. in Cordova, Tenn.

Dear L.B.,
That poem is one of the most requested by my readers. I am pleased to print it again for you and others who have asked. Here it is: After a While by Veronica A. Shoffstall After a while, you learn the subtle difference Between holding a hand and chaining a soul, And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning And company doesn't mean security, And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts And presents aren't promises, And you begin to accept your defeats With your head up and your eyes open With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child, And you learn to build all your roads on today Because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans. And futures have a way of falling down in midflight. After a while, you learn That even sunshine burns if you get too much. So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul, Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. And you learn that you really can endure ... That you really are strong. And you really do have worth. And you learn and learn ... With every goodbye, you learn.

Dear Ann Landers,
Two years ago, I met a wonderful man, and we have been dating ever since. When "Bob" bought a home last May, he asked me to move in with him. I knew his mother would be moving in, too, but I thought it would be temporary. Well, it's been eight months, and she is still here. I cook, clean and do laundry, but she does everything over again, saying I didn't do a good job. She has peculiar eating habits, which makes it difficult for me to prepare a tasty meal that everyone can enjoy. When I try to cook something she can eat, she claims my cooking "doesn't taste right" and adds other ingredients or dilutes it with water. She also tells me I shouldn't use a mop on the floor because "it's not clean unless you get down on your hands and knees and scrub." I've told Bob several times that I am ready to pack up and leave, but he cries and begs me to stay. I honestly don't want to go, Ann. I really love the guy. Can you help me? -- Exasperated in Salem, Ore.

Dear Salem,
Face it. Your boyfriend is going to have to decide: Either his mother must live elsewhere, or you leave -- unless, of course, you are willing to put up with the old battle-ax forever. Since you aren't married yet, there's a chance you may win the power struggle, but I wouldn't bet on it. Your future mother-in-law is going to be a thorn in your side, a fly in your ointment and a bone in your throat forever. Get some counseling to give yourself confidence and strength. You're going to need it. Gem of the Day: If you think you are a person of influence, try ordering someone else's dog around.

Dear Ann Landers,
One day last weekend, my parents popped in just as my husband and I finished lunch. It was one of those rare occasions when my husband had offered to do the dishes. I was shocked when my mother asked, "Why is HE doing the dishes?" My mother has always been very traditional when it comes to women's roles, and her disapproving remark annoyed me. Wishing to avoid a confrontation, I simply did not respond. What I SHOULD have said was "Maybe because this is the '90s and I work, too." I could have added, "Maybe because I spackled and sanded and painted all the bedroom walls. Maybe because I ripped up the carpet on the stairs, pulled nails and repainted the stairway. Maybe because I go to his shop and do sanding for him while he builds kitchens for a living. Maybe because I helped him put a new floor in the upstairs bathroom. Maybe because I help him unload wood from his pickup truck. Maybe because I'm usually the one who hauls two large garbage cans filled with trash down the road to be collected. Maybe because I'm constantly picking up after him, cooking his meals and doing his laundry. Maybe because we do things for each other and I shouldn't be made to feel guilty if he does the dishes once in a while." I'd love to write more, Ann, but I've got to mop the kitchen floor and start preparing Sunday's dinner. HIS family is coming over. If my mother reads this, I've got another shocker for her. He cooks, too. And now, if I could only get him to sew. -- Doing It All in Binghamton, N.Y.

Dear Bing.,
You don't owe your mother any explanation as to why your husband does the dishes. It's not her business. If the subject comes up again, you can hand her this column. Keep reading for another family problem:

Dear Ann Landers,
I come from a large family. A few months ago, we lost our dad. During his illness, he made a detailed list of items he wanted to leave to his children and grandchildren. Mom told him, "This is still my home, and these are my things, too. Nothing leaves." This led to a discussion between my brothers and sisters. We agreed that nothing would be taken from the house. A few siblings, however, have been taking items for their children. This angered the rest of us, and we asked them to return these items. We argued that Mom is still alive and these things belong to HER. As of now, not one of the siblings has returned anything. We also feel that when Mom goes, the heirloom items should be handed down to US and not to the grandchildren. Then, if we choose, we will pass them on to the next generation. Please, Ann, print this letter and your comments so the entire family can read them. -- Discord in Canada

Dear Canada,
I have no idea if Grandma is leaving behind the crown jewels of the Ottoman Empire or some pots, pans and beaded lampshades. I suggest she hire a professional appraiser and an attorney and get a will spelled out now. If she doesn't, I predict a world-class family fight that will turn into a two-generation disaster. Meanwhile, forget about the items that have already been taken from the house. It sounds as if there's enough dissension as it is.