My Dad’s Journals Held the Remaining Clues About Who He Really Was. Now They’re Gone and I Want to Make the Person Responsible Pay.

Dear Prudence I can’t let this one go. Advice by Enter your email to receive alerts for this author. Sign in or create an account to better manage your email preferences. Unsubscribe from email alerts Are you sure you want to unsubscribe from email alerts for Jenée Desmond-Harris? July 20, 20266:00 AM Photo illustration by Slate. Photos by Getty Images Plus. Sign up for the Slatest to get the most insightful analysis, criticism, and advice out there, delivered to your inbox daily. Dear Prudence is Slate’s advice column. Submit questions here. Dear Prudence, My father died unexpectedly two years ago, leaving my brother, sister, and me alone (our mother had died of cancer 30 years ago, and he never remarried). When the time came to clean out his house for sale, because I live in a different state, I could only come up to help every other weekend. My brother “Frank” helped, but my sister “Jean” and her husband “Jeff” did the lion’s share of the work. My siblings and I are close, and we all have strong communication skills, so the relative imbalance of the duties never caused any real static. Jeff, however, was and is a problem. Despite not being very bright, he’s a know-it-all, a bit of a loudmouth, and isn’t especially well-liked in the family. My father tolerated him, but they were never close. That said, Jeff treats my sister well, and they seem to have a healthy, loving relationship. My sister is very sensitive to Jeff’s unpopularity and spends a lot of time trying to convince us that we have misjudged him. Along those lines, Jean told me that while they were cleaning out my dad’s bedroom, they came across several journals that none of us ever knew he kept. When she started leafing through them, however, Jeff was incensed, told her that it was an invasion of privacy, and insisted that she throw them all away, which she did, only alerting my brother and me to their existence months later. I guess this was her way of illustrating how smart and caring Jeff was, but it infuriated me. I was always entrusted to be in my dad’s IT department, and several years ago, as I installed some updates he’d asked for on his computer, I came across a stash of gay pornography. That reframed some other random events in our past, especially since my mother had died, that helped me realize my father had been living in the closet his entire life. I never spoke to him about this, and I didn’t want him to feel like I was confronting him. I loved my father and always hoped he might come out one day and live more openly. I’ve also never talked to my brother or sister about it since I don’t feel like it’s my story to tell, though I feel certain there is information in those journals that could have helped us all understand my father a bit more as a whole person. But Jeff had made a decision about something that had absolutely nothing to do with him, without asking anyone, and that possibility is gone forever. Even more than two years later, I feel hurt and angry. I’m not sure what to do. I realize that my sister isn’t blameless in this, but I don’t know if she knows about my dad’s secret, and it’s easier to focus my anger on the person that I already strongly dislike anyway. My therapist suggested that I talk everything out with my sister and brother, but I feel like that might actually be an invasion of my dad’s privacy. Plus, Jean is almost never without Jeff, and not only do I try to avoid him as much as possible, but I really don’t want this to be a huge family fight or risk alienating her. I’m at a loss, and any help would be greatly appreciated. —Haunted, But Not By Ghosts Dear Haunted, But Not By Ghosts, You’re right, Jean isn’t blameless here. It was Jean, not Jeff, who threw the journals—and this opportunity to know more about your dad’s inner world—away. Jeff doesn’t have a relationship with you, or any reason to be invested in your take on personal family issues. It’s your sister who really fell down on the job by letting him influence her. That ship has sailed, and the journals are gone. But I actually think it’s OK. One way of thinking about this is that it’s good to know exactly what your dad wanted you to know when he was alive and not what you discovered through detective work. If your gut tells you he was in the closet, can that be enough? Can you have compassion for him and imagine what he might have been experiencing without reading detailed accounts of feelings that might break your heart or leave you confused or angry at him in ways that can’t be resolved now that he’s gone? You know or believe you know the general contours of the situation. It’s really not that important to dig any deeper. In fact, it would be a shame if your desire to investigate more about the way your dad felt when he was alive caused a strained relationship with your sister, who is still here and available to talk to (about topics including how she’s doing being married to a bossy loudmouth) right now. Please keep questions short (<150 words), and don‘t submit the same question to multiple columns. We are unable to edit or remove questions after publication. Use pseudonyms to maintain anonymity. Your submission may be used in other Slate advice columns and may be edited for publication. Dear Prudence, After the birth of our son, my wife and I realized that we weren’t in love anymore. It had been a traumatic, high-risk pregnancy, and our son needed surgery before he was born and had ongoing medical issues afterwards. One day, we just looked at each other and realized that we were great partners in advocating for our son, but that was it. At the time, we didn’t want to divorce, since we still had a long medical road ahead, and doing it without support was daunting, so we decided to just have a marriage of convenience until it wasn’t. Unfortunately, we’ve now reached that point. I’ve dated casually over the last few years, but my wife has had a few more serious partners. Now she’s dating someone she thinks she could have a future with, but before we do anything, she wants to know if I think we could revive our relationship. And I don’t know. It feels like it is worth trying in order to continue to provide our son with stability and consistency at home. I also like my wife, and I think I would miss her if we weren’t seeing each other so much. She’s a brilliant mother, a good person, and a great friend. But trying to get our romance back would involve closing the relationship and cutting contact with other partners, including this person who has been very good to her. If we try and fail, what if she resents me and it damages our otherwise excellent co-parenting relationship? It feels like we need something more concrete than a willingness to give it a go to base the decision on. So what sort of metrics would you look for to decide if there was any hope for a romantic re-connection? For the record, neither of us behaved unforgivably during the time we grew apart. We weren’t very kind to each other, but nothing egregious. —Metrics for Romance Dear Metrics for Romance, I feel like you want me to tell you to go ahead and split up, but I can’t do it. At least not right away. I know things have been a little rocky and unconventional, but you and your wife seem like a really good team! There’s something about the way you were honest about your feelings for each other, came to an agreement about how to move forward, dated other people, and are now having a civilized conversation about whether to try again that is kind of moving to me. Maybe it’s because I spend a lot of time reading letters from people who are at war with their spouses over whether to ask the neighbor not to steal their trash cans or what should happen when one person snores. But you two just seem to have a foundation of relative peace and decency that is pretty rare. Combined with the really nice things you say about her, I think (assuming “we weren’t very kind to each other” isn’t a huge euphemism for major hostility or abuse) you have a lot to work with. I think there are reasons for staying together other than your son. You two have dealt with some really tough stuff, put extra pressure on your relationship by seeing other people, and had the kind of difficult conversations that can devolve into miscommunication and hurt feelings, but they didn’t. The ability to weather those kinds of moments without a lot of drama could be tough to replace. That said, I get that you want to actually be in love with your wife and feel a spark. You deserve to feel something for the person you’re married to. Of course. But you haven’t even tried! You two noticed that you fell out of love during a stressful period and then just shrugged and turned away from each other. Now that you’re not in the most intense period of your son’s medical issues, my suggestion is that you try to see if you can turn your marriage into something that excites you again. And I’m asking you to dedicate the same amount of energy and commitment to this project that you have dedicated to providing a stable home for your child. Couples therapy could obviously be a big part of this, but even before your first appointment, you could simply try spending time together and going out of your way to be nice to each other. Talk about the beginning of your relationship and why you chose each other, and reminisce on the good old days. Discuss what you’d both want out of a life together. If there’s absolutely nothing there after all this, then fine, split up. But your relationship has a lot of strengths, and you have absolutely nothing to lose. Prudie Wants to Hear From You! Readers often have great suggestions for our letter writers, occasionally disagree with a point Prudie makes, or simply want to provide some additional advice. Each week, Prudie will be replying to some of these comments and suggestions from readers, which will be featured on the site on Fridays for Slate Plus members. Write to us! Or submit a question here. Dear Prudence, I just saw my sister-in-law over the holiday weekend for the first time since her facelift four months ago. She thought she looked 25 years younger and expected compliments on her appearance. In truth, she now looks terrible. When she asked me what I thought, I couldn’t resist. I laughed and simply said, “I’m so sorry.” She burst into tears. Now my husband is demanding I apologize. She’s made snide remarks about my appearance for years (I didn’t lose the baby weight fast enough; suggested I get a nose job; mocked the way I do my make-up, etc.), so I think a little comeuppance was in order. No need to apologize to someone who doesn’t deserve it, right? —The Truth Hurts Dear the Truth Hurts, Serious question: Are you any happier that you’ve hurt your sister-in-law’s feelings and caused a conflict with your husband? Close your eyes and imagine how it would have been, many years ago, to say to her, “Hey, when you comment on my body and make fun of my face, it really hurts my feelings. Could you stop?” And how would it have felt to say to your husband, “Can you back me up here? I’m not going to be around her if she continues to mock my appearance.” What if you had given yourself the opportunity to either improve your relationship with her or give up on it and spend it with people who were kind to you? I’m not in your head, so I can’t say for sure, but I don’t think holding onto grievances and exchanging insults (even with a jerk like her who looks terrible!) is a great recipe for a happy life. That said, if you’re really not sorry, don’t apologize. Classic Prudie I was engaged at 22 to “Patrick.” We never married because before the wedding, my sister “Cindy” revealed that she’d slept with Patrick and was pregnant with his child. He denied it, but I called off the wedding anyway. However, Cindy never gave birth and was apparently never pregnant. This made me doubt her story. Cindy had always been a very difficult person prone to outbursts and problematic behavior. For example, she once vandalized an ex-boyfriend’s car, and was caught stealing at her job. Later on, Patrick and I started talking again. He assured me Cindy was a liar and knowing some of her problematic behavior, I ended up believing Patrick, befriending him again, and my relationship with Cindy became so strained we cut off contact. Patrick and I never became a couple again, but we did remain friends… Never miss new Slate Advice columns Get the latest from Prudie and our columnists in your inbox each weekday, plus special bonus letters on Saturdays. Advice Dear Prudence Family