Deborah and John Kerr in "Tea & Sympathy"

Like every emotion we have, empathy is complicated. We all show and receive it differently.

When I’m feeling physically lousy, I don’t want or expect anyone to tell me how sorry she feels for me. I don’t complain either, maybe because my mom and dad weren’t especially empathetic souls. No one is really going to make me feel better, anyway, except maybe a doctor.

Besides, can anyone else really feel our pain, figuratively, if not literally? I think not, except in extremely profound relationships, such as moms and their kids. So what does it matter, no matter how sorry they say they feel?

I guess most of us like to have a sympathetic ear or a few words when we’re under the weather, but doesn’t a visit, a gesture or a bowl of chicken soup mean much more.

My friend D, who recently had a round of operations and chemotherapy for breast cancer, told me her sisters weren’t overflowing with empathy. They three have great relationships with each other, but D didn’t expect more, she told me. “One sister would say, ‘It’ll be okay soon,’ and the other was on her cell phone in my hospital,” D laughed.

Sometimes it’s hard to know what to say or how to act when someone has a serious illness or is terribly upset about something else. Do you act like everything is normal? Do you try to joke around? Do you try to be a psychologist? Do you just listen?

I used to make my friends and relatives crazy when I was upset about a boyfriend or a problem at work.  I’d go round and round till I talked myself out. That didn’t work so well. I’d feel better for two minutes and then I’d start the process again.

Even if I don’t expect much empathy from anyone, I try to show it as often as possible when someone else needs it. I know I don’t always do it exactly right, but the beauty of being FOF is knowing you have another chance.  

#1 Hubby Nicky Hilton

You’ve got to hand it to the grand dame of film. Elizabeth Taylor, 78, is getting married for the ninth time to a man 30 years her junior. We could spend weeks speculating why she’s marrying again or why he is interested in a woman old enough to be his mom. But it matters not. They’re getting hitched.

I remember feeling bad for Elizabeth when her producer husband, Mike Todd, was killed in a plane crash in 1958 after only a year of marriage. I was 11 and I felt sad for her because she seemed like she was deeply in love. He was her third husband.

Maybe she’s been searching for another Mike her whole life. He was handsome, strong, smart and adored her, from all I’ve read. Actor Richard Burton (who she married twice) had many of the same traits, as Todd, but he was a volatile man. Her husband Larrry, who was a construction worker, was an odd partner, and singer Eddie Fisher was probably silly putty in her hands. Virginia senator, John Warner, seemed like a long-term mate but that ended after five years. Maybe he bored her.

#8 Hubby To Be Jason Winters

Elizabeth is still beautiful and carries herself regally, even in a wheelchair. I saw her on Broadway in a revival of Lillian Hellman’s “The Little Foxes” in 1968, the night I became engaged. I’ve since gotten divorced, but Liz is eight husbands ahead of me.

When I meet new people, I enjoy learning about them. I am a major league question asker, in part because I have been a journalist for four decades, and in part because I dislike small talk. Everyone has a story and usually likes to tell it.

It’s always stimulating to discuss and debate about politics, business and world events, but people’s personal stories have great dimension, texture and soul.  No matter how many of us there are in the world, we share more than meets the eye. Our differences also expand each of our horizons.

I can meet people anywhere, including at the supermarket. That’s where I met Katherine last week. She was in the checkout  line in front of us and joked about my Blackberry addiction after she heard my husband firmly ask me to put the darn thing away. Turns out Katherine is a substance abuse counselor, which was pretty funny in light of my Blackberry usage.

We spoke last night and I learned that Katherine is in a theatre group, has two grown sons and loves restaurants with atmosphere. We made a date to have brunch a week from Sunday.

I’m sure I’ll ask Katherine lots more questions.

I couldn’t believe my eyes when I spotted the following heading in Zagat for a group of New York City retaurants:

Senior Appeal

Tim & Nina Zagat in an airline club. Does it have "Senior Appeal?"

What in God’s name are they talking about? Is the food pureed for people with loose dentures? Is the menu type in 30 point bold for people with fading eyesight? Do the  waiters use megaphones in case someone is hard of hearing? Are there cane holders at every table and parking spaces for wheelchairs.

I have never understood the appeal of Zagat. Its “reviews” are poorly written and just plain inaccurate. It was a brilliant concept. Now it needs to be permanently retired.

That will give the Zagats plenty of time to eat at those restaurants with “Senior Appeal.”