Dear Margo | 10/01/2009 12:00 am

Dear Margo: Seriously Playing Games

Seriously Playing Games

Dear Margo: My wife and I regularly play an online video game. Since I work full time and she doesn’t, she plays more than I do. A few weeks ago, she asked me if I had a problem with her spending a lot of time playing the game with an online friend, who happens to be male. I said that as long as he was "just a friend," it was no problem. Over the past few weeks, however, I noticed behavioral changes in her that made me think something was amiss, so I read her game logs on her computer to assure myself that their relationship was "just friends."

Long story short, I found enough in the logs to become very upset. I confronted her, and she admitted that she is in love with the online guy! She says she also loves me, is confused and doesn’t want to hurt either one of us. I love her, and the thought of her leaving makes me ill, but I want her to be happy. I also want her to hurry and make a decision because the stress of not knowing if she will leave me for him is killing me. But she doesn’t want to be rushed into making a decision. — Nice Guy Who Doesn’t Want To Finish Last

Dear Nice: I am having trouble with this. Your wife is playing an online game and thinks she’s fallen in love with Online Gamer Guy? Sheesh, it doesn’t take much, does it? The Internet being, well, the Internet, for all she knows, her game-boy could be an elderly lady who writes romance novels. No offense, but your mate doesn’t sound as though she’s wrapped real tight. Either that, or there’s not much going on in your marriage. It just seems addled to me that anyone could think she’s fallen in love with an unseen partner playing a computer game … and she’s telling you to hang on until she decides. I think if this happened to me, I would begin a new game called "Let’s Separate." But in your case, I would suggest you both stop with the video games and instead go to a couples counselor to see what is wrong and what can be salvaged. — Margo, amazedly

Father Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Dear Margo: My parents are both in their late 80s and are beginning to have some major health issues. So far so good, but it has got me thinking about what to do for my father’s funeral. Dad has always been very critical and harsh with his children, grandchildren and, now, great-grandchildren. None of us has ever been able to live up to his expectations, even though we are law-abiding, honest citizens with college degrees, good jobs and houses with the mortgages paid off. Nothing has ever been good enough for Dad. He is currently not speaking to two of his three children due to his "disappointment" in them.

He is prominent in politics and holds a statewide appointed position. He goes out of his way to remember the birthdays of everyone he works with. He knows the names of all their children, asks about them and shows great interest in the lives and feelings of his colleagues. People either love him for the caring, sensitive man he projects professionally or avoid him (and therefore my mother) socially because he dominates every conversation. How will I deal with a funeral full of glowing testimonials knowing the misery he has caused my mother and his family over the past 65 years? — Dreading the Inevitable

Dear Dread: You will go through the motions. I suspect you will not be the only "mourner" to ever sit in a pew and secretly wonder who they are talking about. The disparity between his public and private selves is regrettable, but your insight will see you through. — Margo, perceptively

***
Dear Margo is written by Margo Howard, Ann Landers’ daughter. All letters must be sent via e-mail to dearmargo@creators.com. Due to a high volume of e-mail, not all letters will be answered. To read more about Margo Howard, click here.

Every Thursday and Friday, you can find "Dear Margo" and her latest words of wisdom on our home page at www.wowowow.com. Or better yet, click to sign up for an instant email alert that will send a message right to your in-box every time a new "Dear Margo" column is posted on wowOwow.

Click here for all "Dear Margo" columns.

Read more about: Dear Margo, Death, Divorce, Family, Infidelity, Internet, Marriage, Relationships

96 Reader Comments (so far…) Sign In or Register to comment

Wow, LW#1’s wife is an idiot. As someone who acts far differently in real life than online, I second the opinion that she probably has no idea who the person she’s "in love with" really is. LW#1 and his wife need either couples therapy or a divorce, based on what he wants, not his flaky wife.

LW#2- I’ll probably one day be in the same situation. My father basically dumped my mother and I when I was a teen and started a new life with a new family. His new family (a woman and her now-adult daughter) don’t seem to know the "real him" I experienced while growing up. I dread having to one day listen to people praise a man I know does not deserve it. That being said, people can think whatever they want of the dead, positive or negative, and it’s not my (or the letter writer’s) place to educate people on the faults of the deceased.

By Deanna F on 10/01/2009 12:24 am

e-mail alert

… dumped my mother and me. I’m truly sorry for what you went through, and I mean no disrespect. But this a huge pet peeve.

By Rantn Raven on 10/02/2009 3:27 am

e-mail alert

Yeah, I… don’t care.

By Deanna F on 10/02/2009 9:31 am

e-mail alert

Wow, LW#1’s wife is an idiot. NO not an idiot. EXAMPLE . YOU work from home selling AVON online, HE has his own shop but hates computers unless its a game. HE has all day dealing with REAL LIVE PEOPLE, YOU however are sitting at the desk laptop in front of you could meet some of these people.

When your spouse or yourself have activities that do NOT include the other i can tell you now , jealousy rears its ugly head. The partner that is "out and about" hell, they don’t know whats going on unless YOU SAY SOMETHING. THEY DON"T READ MINDS! SO, stand up, dress up, and show your mate YOU are interested in THEM. Takes two to tango.

By Helen Bates on 10/05/2009 11:30 pm

e-mail alert

the word missing was WISHING….. YOU however are sitting at the desk laptop in front of you WISHING you could meet some of these people. Apologies for not previewing

By Helen Bates on 10/05/2009 11:33 pm

e-mail alert

I’d have more of a reply if your example had anything to do with, well, anything.

The wife’s an idiot because she thinks she’s fallen in love with someone online and is obviously at least willing to consider the possibility of leaving her husband for the online mystery "man". That- is an idiot.

By Deanna F on 10/06/2009 3:22 pm

e-mail alert

letter #1:

The online friend that she’s in love with hasn’t shown his feet of clay, so he seems more attractive than her husband. Hubby can either hang on or cut his losses, but counseling is still the way to go, if only to learn how to focus on what each one wants out of the relationship they have.

letter #2

Wear red to the funeral. After the guests are gone, sing and dance the song "Thank you very Much!" from the musical "scrooge"

(It’s from the scene of Christmas Future, when Scrooge’s casket is being paraded tothe cemetary.)

By Mjit RaindancerStahl on 10/01/2009 12:26 am

e-mail alert

HA! Mjit that’s exactly what I was thinking when I read letter #2, wear red to the funeral and dance a jig over the grave, of course after everyone is gone.

By Kim Horton on 10/01/2009 7:10 am

e-mail alert

I remember, after years of exhausting psycholigical stress caused by my father’s dour, judgmental, boozy character, saying to my mother that I wouldn’t shed tears when he died. Nope. Not me. When it happened, I sat stoically at the wake as his friends trooped in. And no tears. Until the second night, when the firefighters came for their ceremony. And I heard stories about his dedication. And every one of the firefighters who waited in line to shake hands with my mother and me said, "He talked about you all the time. You were so important to him."

It was a little bittersweet, to say the least. I had to wait until the last six weeks of his life to be able to talk to him. And I had to wait until his wake to find out how he truly felt about his family.

That Christmas, I went to the cemetary, where I had once vowed to dance that jig, and instead, cracked open a split of Champagne and drank a toast to what might have been. And I cried. It felt good.

By Susan Crawford on 10/03/2009 9:47 am

e-mail alert

Bravo Susan for your very healthy and cathartic response to your father’s death. Like many of the commenters here, I , too, had a dad who was very different in his personal life versus his professional life. He was an administrator in the local school district. Classes were suspended for a day and his funeral held in the high school gymnasium in order to accomodate all the mourners and people wishing to pay their respects; he was well respected by many students, parents and people in the community.

I can remember feeling bitter when I’d go to various high school graduation ceremonies while he was alive and see him hugging the graduating students, asking them how they were doing and showing genuine caring to them when he could barely say two words to me and had a history of being verbally and sometimes physically abusive with me and in possession of a violent temper. My bitterness only increased as I heard stories from various mourners about all the times he’d gone the extra mile to help out "his" students yet couldn’t even tell me he loved me until the day before his death. It was only in the last week of his life that we were able to somewhat connect and even then he died with so many things between us unresolved. At his wake, one person told me how proud he was "of all you kids" (meaning me and my siblings) and how he’d "always talk about what you were doing and where you were living". In my shock, I point blank asked, "then why didn’t he ever tell me he was proud of me?"

I always thought that because of the years of abuse at his hand, I’d be glad when he died. Instead, I am still ripped in two with anger and bitterness at how he could be the kind of father that I’d always craved to year after year of students in the school where he worked and not to me, his own biological daughter. And, the regret and sorrow over what could have been if both of us would have just put aside our own stubborn fears and reached out to one another.

Maybe this year, I’ll buy some cheetos (one of his favorite foods), go to his grave and have a feast in honor of him and what could have been too!

By Jennifer B on 10/09/2009 2:40 pm

e-mail alert

I wish you the best, Jennifer. Cheetos or champagne - healing comes in many forms.

By Susan Crawford on 10/09/2009 3:17 pm

e-mail alert

#1 Be what she finds interesting in the gamer, and let the computer collect dust for awhile.

#2 When my paternal grandmother died when I was a teenager, I could not find any tears and never have. Did not hate her, rather no recall of afffection from her in life. When a parent dies, no matter how much you feel you have prepared mentally there is a core of you that just unfolds in truth to your relationship. Go with the flow of who you are, for your own sake. At that point in life, the soul of you just takes over and it is what it is. Grieving is for the living.

By Linda Myers on 10/01/2009 12:36 am

e-mail alert

WHen my dad died I was unhappy that I learned several things I didn’t know about him. When my mother dies, I’ll be amused by the many things people didn’t know about her.

By Karleen S on 10/01/2009 1:01 pm

e-mail alert

Alot is learned after the fact, when so many come together and this one person is the focus point. Sharing as a group all the dots that were not connected, and some dots you really rather not know.

By Linda Myers on 10/01/2009 1:35 pm

e-mail alert

I agree with both of Margo’s answers.

The first letter makes you wonder what happened to common sense as of late. The second reminds me that, just because someone wasn’t what you expected them to be, does not mean that they were not of use or service, or help to others.

Expectations tend to disappoint.

By Eyes Open on 10/01/2009 11:04 pm