Adulting Together: How to Actually Stay Close to Your Grown Kids

Who doesn’t want a real relationship with their adult children? Those of us who spent years in the trenches of raising the little critters — running on cold coffee and optimism, utterly convinced those early baby years were a preview of perpetual sunshine — know how fast that gets sorted out. The bumps don’t knock politely. They just show up.

And here’s what nobody warns you about. When your kids hit their thirties, they start bumping into the same walls you did. The mortgage. The career curveball. The relationship that requires actual work. Somewhere in their fully developed frontal lobes, the thought flickers: I had no idea my parents went through things like this. I’ve never asked my kids directly — they don’t exactly line up for my let’s-go-deeper conversations — but I suspect the realization is happening. And honestly? It probably matters less what they’re figuring out about your past than how they’re seeing you right now.

One of our kids lives nearby. The other is clear across the country, juggling a demanding career, a serious hobby, and a relationship — all wonderful, all relentless time-eaters. We split taking the red-eye, back-destroying flights west. (Someday an airline will take mercy on traveling parents and invent a round trip that doesn’t require arriving home looking like you survived something.) I have more flexibility than he does, so I’m trying to make a better effort at going the extra miles.

Fresh off a weekend that went from kayaking in the ocean to visiting one of the largest botanical gardens in the world, I’m armed with a few things that actually work.

Listen. Just listen. Don’t show up with an agenda — everyone’s plate is already full. Come with your best listening ears and let your kids lead. If they open up about doubts, fears, or what’s keeping them up at night, follow that thread. If they don’t, don’t pry. And please, for the love of everything, don’t ask a string of questions. This age group has a hair trigger for feeling interrogated, and you will get shut down faster than you can say “I’m just curious.” Let the conversation go where it wants to go. Once they see you’re genuinely listening — no judgment, no unsolicited advice, no agenda — they’ll open up. On their terms.

Go with the flow. If you’re spending more than a few hours together without a set plan, stay fluid. Your kid might suggest something you’d never have dreamed up. Say yes. This weekend I kayaked for the first time, paddled into sea caves, and — let’s say the outhouse was a full experience I’d recommend skipping. But the rest? Worth every minute of it. Unless you feel genuinely unsafe, be open. You might surprise yourself.

Be thankful — and say so. Don’t let gratitude stay internal. Thank your kids for the time, for the effort, for letting you into their world for a weekend. I said it, wrote it, and hugged it into existence. You cannot be grateful enough for moments of calm and connection with a grown child. And when you get home, thank God too — for the good visits and the rocky patches both. It’s all part of it.