DEAR MISS MANNERS: How long should someone wait for a call to be returned?

My friend and I talk frequently on the phone. Lately when I call, I get a text that says, “I’ll call you back.” I thought the returned call would come in a short time, but it is taking longer and longer.

It was taking as long as a week, but now it doesn't come at all and I must call again.

GENTLE READER: Years ago, when Miss Manners pointed out that the telephone was an inherently rude instrument -- demanding that others drop whatever they were doing and attend to it immediately -- nobody listened to her.

And when they all got cellphones, the problem of giving calls preference over those actually present got worse.

But telephone usage is evolving, creating the hope -- or illusion -- that we will arrive at some reasonable understanding. One encouraging sign is that many people consider it wrong to telephone without first texting to set a convenient time to talk. There are also those who prefer to avoid using the telephone for speaking, now that there is a less intrusive way of sending instant messages.

So let’s not jump to condemning your friends by setting rules and deadlines for returning calls. Yours are evidently not quick requests for information, much less emergencies, but rather, friendly chats. It may be that they are too frequent or too long for your friend, or just inconveniently timed.

A more practical rule, then, is to ask people what methods of communication they prefer, and to work out a compromise that respects your own preferences. Perhaps you and your friend could set a regular time to talk, or shift to meeting in person, if that is feasible. Or you could start an old-fashioned written correspondence instead -- although presumably electronically.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Fifty years ago, when my father was stationed in Vietnam, he sent the military exchange catalog to my mother back home. From it, she ordered a complete bone china set for 12 people, with every possible dinnerware piece.

There are dinner plates, salad plates, bread and butter plates, soup bowls, fruit saucers, cups and saucers, and serving pieces. It is a beautiful set in a simple ivory pattern rimmed in gold.

My mother passed away almost 30 years ago, and since then, I have used the china for many years when hosting holiday dinners. Now I have downsized and am living in an apartment, and the china is in several boxes in a storage unit.

What should I do with it?

GENTLE READER: Use it. Do so even if you can only keep on hand the plates that are relevant to your menus, and even if only to feed yourself and your prospective heirs.

Miss Manners cannot promise that they will develop the same aesthetic and sentimental attachment to the set that you seem to have. The use of fine china is rare now, especially when it should not be subjected to a dishwasher -- as yours, with its gold trim, should not.

Yet your loved ones may acquire a fondness for the set through its association with you, somewhat like yours with your mother. And in any case, you will have had the pleasure of using it.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, gentlereader@missmanners.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)

DEAR MISS MANNERS: We are holding a celebration of life for my 28-year-old son at an airplane hangar. I’m saying “Wear anything!” because we want it to be about celebrating his life more than mourning his death. I plan to wear white.

Do you make a distinction between funerals and celebrations of life, or do you believe mourning prevails regardless? I am not criticizing; beliefs are beliefs. I guess I’m questioning my actions at a wobbly time.

GENTLE READER: You raise an interesting question: Does a “celebration of life” require etiquette adjustments from a funeral, which it is increasingly replacing?

Funerals used to be set rituals, usually religious ones. Eulogies were given by clergy members, who were unlikely to have known the deceased as well as their relatives and friends, and could inadvertently make mistakes -- misattributing specific virtues, for example. Sometimes the eulogist was a stranger, reduced to saying things like “She loved life,” as if that were a unique characteristic.

So the choice of eulogists turned to those who could speak from close knowledge, and there were more and more speeches, sometimes followed by spontaneous remarks from other mourners. This format was far more evocative of the deceased, with specific examples that rang true, rather than generalities that sometimes did not.

When such talks exceeded the ceremonial part, the event was renamed a "celebration of life." Miss Manners understands that many, perhaps most, people prefer this name. For one thing, it is a lot more cheerful.

But there are dangers.

One that many people have noticed is that not everyone is gifted at this. There are sometimes declarations of how much the deceased admired the speaker. There have been tasteless jokes and revelations, and lengthy impositions on the patience of even the most bereaved.

But there is another danger in the very premise of a celebration of life: the attempt to banish sadness. So please do not mandate cheerfulness. This loss is a tragedy, and grief should not be made to seem out of place. You may succumb to it yourself.

The American color of mourning is black, although the code is only sporadically observed (except in cases of funerals for national figures). But Miss Manners is not going to say you should not wear white -- a mourning color in other cultures -- if it makes you feel better.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am blessed with a wonderful doctor who is caring, highly intelligent, personable and who always has time for me. I thank her for her care and personal concern for me at each visit.

Is there something else I can do to show my appreciation? I am on a modest budget, but I often give gift cards (with a note) to mail carriers, janitors and other servicepeople who take pride in their work and go above and beyond their duties.

I assume my doctor would have no need for the $20 grocery gift card I usually use as a thank-you. What would you suggest?

GENTLE READER: What about giving her something priceless, which is what she has given you?

Not only would it fit your budget, but it would cost you little effort because you have already done it. Just write out the appreciation you have sent to Miss Manners and send it to your doctor.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, gentlereader@missmanners.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I had a severe injury to a finger. It has since healed, but when I cook, I usually keep a bandage over the injury to protect the area.

One night I made dinner for my husband and a very close friend (who has a great sense of humor). I had the entrees placed on the table and was serving the salads when I noticed the bandage was missing.

When I sat down, I debated what I should do, but then came clean: I informed them that the bandage was missing and that I was afraid it might have ended up in a salad. They both thought it was hilarious, and jokes about the possibility of it turning up in the pizza were the order of the night.

I realize the topic is gross, and most people would likely not see the humor. However, it brought up the hypothetical discussion among us of what I would have done had this been a larger group that extended beyond the three of us.

If I had a larger group of people -- say, a dinner party of six -- and the entrees were already on the table when I discovered the bandage missing, would it be appropriate to keep quiet and hope the bandage did not show up in someone’s food? Or warn them ahead of time and completely destroy their appetites for dinner? (Since this is hypothetical, let’s say that dumping the whole dinner and ordering out is not an option.)

What say you?

GENTLE READER: Miss Manners, thankful that this scenario is hypothetical, will take the opportunity to urge those who cook with injuries to wear non-hypothetical gloves.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My elderly parents and I seldom talk or visit, per my father’s wishes. I am the older of their two children, and was always the dependable, devoted daughter.

Seven years ago, my father made a derogatory comment towards my husband and I over politics at a family gathering, and when I objected to him and my mother privately, he decided that I wouldn’t be included in future family events.

In the years since, both my father and my brother have told many mutual friends and relatives about our rift, but have told different versions to different people, none of which are true.

I am regularly approached by well-intentioned acquaintances, urging me to mend fences with my grieving parents; I never know what story they’ve heard, and have responded by telling them politely that the issue is a private family matter, and that I prefer not to discuss it with them.

Three times recently, I’ve been told that my reply was rude, and one lady even remarked that my parents might be better off the way things are. How should one respond to such suggestions, especially if the person is an old family friend?

GENTLE READER: “Thank you. I will think about it.”

Never mind that you, Miss Manners and probably your old family friends know you will not. The fact that you appear to be considering their advice should be enough to satisfy them in the moment. And since thinking is an ongoing activity, presumably you can repeat the sentiment if they follow up.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, dearmissmanners@gmail.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)