Asking Eric: Hank was my father’s best friend but I don’t want him in my life

Dear Eric: I’m not sure what to do about my deceased father’s best friend.

This gentleman, “Hank,” is currently 86 years old. I had hoped that he could fill me in on who my father was. My father was barely in my life; he left my brother and I with a horribly abusive mother.

Well, Hank will take anything that I say and one-up me. When it comes to his health, he won’t stop talking about it. When I made a comment about my night out the day before my birthday, he looked out the window with a weird mean look and said, “Oh look, birds.”

He asks if he already told me a story, I’ll say yes, and he still tells me! From the beginning.

It goes on and on. It’s not dementia, he has a very good memory.

I don’t want him in my life anymore. I don’t want to hurt him, though. Any advice?

I might add he was an only child of a wealthy family who doted on him. Never married, no kids, no anyone, really.

– Friend of My Father

Dear Friend: I’m a little unclear whether you feel you’ve “inherited” your father’s best friend or if you cultivated the relationship with an expectation that Hank hasn’t met. Either way, it does seem like you’re not getting what you’d hoped (and, perhaps, neither is Hank).

So, it’ll be healthy to rethink how your relationship works. What does Hank need from you? What do you need from him? What can you reasonably provide? What can he reasonably provide?

Looking at the facts, rather than what was hoped for, may help you see the next steps more clearly.

If, for instance, you feel a sense of obligation to provide Hank company, you might find that that’s not quite what Hank is looking for.

At the core of all of this is your desire to maintain a connection to your father, which makes a lot of sense. You may find, however, that staying as close to Hank as you are is doing the opposite.

Here’s another tactic: Ask him to write down a list of memories he has about your father. You might even provide him with a written list of questions. If he’s not a big writer, you might try recording him. But see if you can get the list or written Q&A first, as it is less likely to devolve into stories you’ve already heard.

Dear Eric: The letter writer “Family Conundrum” wanted to include her recently widowed sister in holiday events, but the sister was nervous about navigating airports.

Conundrum wrote: “I’m torn between respecting her feelings of discomfort and being heartbroken at the thought of her spending Christmas alone.”

When my mother-in-law turned 85, she was not comfortable navigating the airports, layovers, etc. to visit the rest of our family 3,000 miles away. Easy fix! Either I or my son would fly to her house, spend a couple of days there to help her fix a few things around the house, help her pack and fly with her to the family for the holidays.

After the holiday airport rush, I would take her right to the gate of her direct flight and watch her board, and her neighbor would be at the receiving gate and would help her get her luggage and drive her home. She had many good friends who were so happy to help at the other end.

She loved spending time with us each year, until she passed at 90. Because of this arrangement, her great-grandkids still have wonderful memories of her holiday traditions, recipes and her life, even though they only saw her maybe twice a year.

– Full Holiday House

Dear House: I like this fix a lot; thanks for writing in with it. Others also suggested that a family member accompany the sister on her travels or help the sister request assistance at the airport, such as wheelchair service. If she’s amenable to it, this is a wonderful alternative.

I also want to underline something that stuck out to other readers, and with which I should have led: The first step for this letter writer and anyone who is trying to get a grieving relative or friend to a celebration is to ask the person what they want. “All things being equal, all airports being navigable, what would you prefer? We can make it happen, even if what you’d prefer this year is to be alone.”

Everyone grieves in their own way and while it’s important to be with people who care about us and can support us, it’s also important for those who care about us to hear what we’re asking for and to make space for it.

Send questions to R. Eric Thomas at eric@askingeric.com or P.O. Box 22474, Philadelphia, PA 19110. Follow him on Instagram @oureric and sign up for his weekly newsletter at rericthomas.com.