Re your article (I’m learning to live with my fear for my baby’s safety: it’s the price we pay for love,4 July), the fear never goes. You just learn, if you are in reasonable mental health, to put the thought to the far recess of the mind’s worry file. So here am I at 81, seeing in the mind’s eye my son hurtling at fatal speed with his family along a motorway while on holiday in France, being attacked by strangers in a forest, being poisoned by undercooked chicken. Add these fears to those of the past 55 years of leaving home, cars, girls … that’s the price of love.
Newcastle upon Tyne
I can’t be the only reader who uses Royal Mail’s convenient “click and drop” service that allows you to print a franked address label that you simply attach to your letter or parcel (Letters, 4 July). There’s even a collection service for those unable to get to a post box or Post Office.
Marple Bridge, Greater Manchester
I am 80 and this morning stood on my left leg for two minutes and then on my right leg for two minutes – back straight, arms and hands stretched out each side, and the free leg raised with knee bent in front of my abdomen (known as standing like a tree in tai chi). The secret is to gaze at something straight and vertical – a door, tree or lamp-post. But I can hardly last a few seconds if I close my eyes (Letters, 1 July).
I am stable on one of my legs, but no good on the other. Does this mean I have one foot in the grave?
Andrew Hillier (aged 73)