My mother and I were never friends. I left home at 19, hoping to get as far away from my folks as possible. Still, they followed me around…forced themselves into my life after I had children. I tolerated their visits once or twice a year.
After my mom’s first heart attack when she was 66, she phoned once a week, and I would try to comfort her. Then she had another, and heart surgery, and decided she wanted to move in with us. My husband said no, and fortunately my Dad didn’t want to. We tried to find them accomodations closer to us than the 4 hour drive, but Dad didn’t want to leave his home of 30 years, so they stayed there until Mom had a stroke, at age 78. My brother, husband and I had to clean out their house and sell it, and find them a nursing home to live in within an hour’s drive from both of us.
Mom now cannot speak at all, and I enjoy her company much better this way. I see them once a week when they insist on coming here for lunch and supper.
Not everyone has a good relationship with their parents. You who do are fortunate, I guess.