My problem was different … or maybe not so different after all. My mother and I never argued after I left home. But we have never had an adult conversation either. She simply couldn’t stop being “mom,” no matter how old I became. Everything I mentioned was met with a response intended to teach me the “right” thing to do, or at least to model how to respond to the situation. I was always the six-year-old needing direction (graduate degree and professional career notwithstanding) and she was always the dutiful “mom” searching for the right thing to say to guide me along life’s path. We could never break out of that relationship; she had no idea how to relate to me outside of that role. Now 93 and living with dementia, she is happy when I call, although never quite certain who I am. Her hopes, dreams and fears? I will never know … we never got that far.

Perhaps this is not so different. In both situations, the most important thing is to realize that the other person is not going to change. Then we can decide that the bond is (or is not) important enough to just let it be.