AND FINALLY Who am I to judge the ‘truth’?

WHAT is the truth? That’s one of the oldest philosophical questions, isn’t it? Have you ever heard two separate accounts of the same thing and noticed differences?

Or suspected a close friend of exaggerating a story? Even historians can disagree sharply over interpretation of documented fact because eyewitness accounts cannot always be relied on. Stories shift in time, and truth is subjective.

A woman once told me with a wise nod (as if imparting something profound): ‘I enjoy your column, but you know, there are two sides to every story.’ Now that’s a truth I do realise.

This comes to mind because of three angry emails complaining about last week’s lead letter (‘My mum was truly hideous . . . so why do I miss her?’).

The senders say they don’t recognise the description ‘Janette’ gave of her mother and that her letter should not have been chosen. It is suggested I am at fault for not doing enough to ‘take steps’ to ensure what is written to me is actually the case.

This has never happened before. Ordinary readers will realise that it would hardly be practical for me to crossexamine everyone who writes in, questioning their stories.

What other ‘steps’ could I take? Since I always change the names (and often some details too), who could know who wrote it — other than an individual who might recognise the issue?

Anyway, you’d be surprised how many situations are almost identical. This week, a lady wrote to me about ‘Janette’, saying thank you for describing her own grief over her relatives and deceased mother.

Sadly, there are many family quarrels — and many have featured on these pages.

Naturally, I hate to upset people, but can only answer letters in good faith — always hoping others might find my replies useful. As for ‘Janette’ — the point is, what she wrote was her truth. Clearly, others will have their own versions of the story and their own pain, but how could I know? I certainly can’t judge.

Bel answers readers’ questions on emotional and relationship problems each week. Write to Bel Mooney, Daily Mail, 2 Derry Street, london W8 5tt, or email bel.mooney@dailymail.co. uk. a pseudonym will be used if you wish. Bel reads all letters but regrets she cannot enter into personal correspondence.