I think I did all my crying on this issue in therapy, about the time I turned 40. I highly recommend therapy for anyone for whom this parental emotional absence is an issue.
No apology needed, every view is welcome. I am finding out there is as much about this side of things that I don’t know as there is about the original question in the OP.
I’m also in my 50s and I’m an only child and I live far away from my parents. I’m terrified what’s going to happen when one of them passes away, because the other one will be lost. Despite the distance, I’ve seen in person them every calendar year, except in 2020.
When we visited in 2021, my parents hosted my three friends from kindergarden, all of whom also have contact with my parents (Facebook or in person). I exchange Facebook pleasantries with my friend’s mother, who was my Girl Scout leader.
I talk to my parents every two weeks for 2x40 minutes (free Zoom), plus emails, Facebook and even postcards and text messages. We talk about their doctor’s visits, their friends, many of whom I know as well, their activities and their travel plans. And food. My parents enjoy cooking, so food is always a topic, and sometimes we’ll send each other recipes. Scotch and bourbon recommendations as well.
My husband’s usually nearby and also talks with them during the Zoom talks, but I am the center of attention. He has a better relationship with my parents than his own. 
We have a two month sabbatical coming up and half of it will be with my parents. They love spoiling my husband and me, and are overjoyed that we’ll be there. We’re going to visit 3 distilleries, take a ferry ride, visit friends and there will be food.
ETA When I meet some of my parents friends, I often hear the comment, “Your parents talk about you so much, I’m glad to finally meet you.”
It really does sound like your parents are cool!
I didn’t get along with my parents as a teen, and that extended through most of my twenties, especially with them kicking me out and all.
Later, I started reconnecting with them, and refused to allow them to treat me as their child. This created a bit of friction, but I pointed out that they were the ones who wanted me to come around to visit, I wasn’t the one asking them. Finally my father and I came around to a bit of a relationship, which included my mother.
We didn’t agree on pretty much anything, but we learned ways of enjoying eachother’s company. Part of it was that anytime they started baiting me with their take on subjects we disagreed with, I would simply leave.
So, for a number of years, we actually got along pretty well. I attended various holidays and events, and sometimes just came over to visit and talk for no special occasion. I went and watched the high school state basketball championships with my father for a number of years, and even went to church with them from time to time.
It was actually pretty nice, we weren’t friends exactly, but closer than acquaintances.
Since my father died a year ago, my relationship with my mother has been deteriorating. I see her more now, as I go over and cook for her a couple times a week, and take care of other things she is incapable or unwilling to do for herself. But, while my father believed in diplomacy, she believes more in hostility, and without him keeping that in check, that hostility has bloomed and spilled over into every part of her life. She’s not just hostile to me, not just to my sisters, but to more or less everyone she encounters. She constantly complains about how everyone is mean to her, and wallows in her self victimization.
I wish my relationship to my parents was closer than it really was. I was relatively close to my mother. One of my brothers was relatively close to Dad. But family relationships are complicated. Mom shared a few things with me that she never shared with anyone else but I also know that she bad-mouthed her children to her sisters just as she bad-mouthed her sisters to us.
I know enough to understand how bullied she was by her own sister (and friends) as a child and why she was myopic about my weight, shyness, and desire to have nothing to do with religion. Despite all that, she was a friend whom I could call on for advice and vice versa. We didn’t learn enough to truly listen to each other before she passed from cancer at age 77, but we did have several breakthroughs. Almost enough to be satisified with.
Yes, I should see a therapist. It probably won’t happen unless I win the big lottery though. Still trying to let it go, though.
I’m 43. Growing up, my mother stayed at home and looked after my brother and I, while my Dad worked all hours of the day. As a pre-teen, I was mostly terrified of him - he was grumpy and unapproachable, and threateningly close to belligerence most of the time. While my mother was mostly fairly cold and distant (and still is), I preferred her to him.
Then I turned into an adult. He divorced my mother and retired, and turned into a butterfly. He became thoughtful, caring and empathetic. We started spending long evenings together drinking wine, listening to music and setting the world to rights. He is a fiercely intelligent, well-travelled and fun-loving man - even if he werent my Dad. I would happily have him as a friend. He’s helped me out financially when I’ve needed it, always had a spare room for me to sleep in, and always been a phone call away. He has been my best friend and my biggest supporter, and by far the most positively influential person in my life.
On top of all of that, he’s not even my biological father (he married my mother when I was 4).
Now, he’s in his 70s and is, well, ageing. As I crash-landed into middle age I have become bitter and jaded, and I see us both drifting apart, probably irreconcilably - I doubt we will ever sit at the kitchen table and stay up until 1am drinking and listenihg to delta blues again. As sad as that is, I’m glad that I have sonething to mourn/miss.
My dad died suddenly of a heart attack at the age of 54 when I was 31. I still have my mom who is now 82.
I love/loved my parents dearly. They were always there for me when I needed them. They always helped out with my kids and loved them like their own. My kids were/are very close to my parents. After my sisters and I were married we would still always get together for birthdays, holidays, and weekends at the cabin. I’m sure we had disagreements through the years and I know I thought they were terribly unfair at times when I was a teenager. But like I said they were always there for me and I could count on them to have my back. My mom and I love to play Scrabble and cards, we like to reminisce and look at old pictures. I don’t have anything bad to say about my parents. Nor can I think of a terrible fight we ever had.
When I was born my dad was 62 and my mom 42. They had nine kids together. My dad was away a lot, sometimes for months at a time. Mom had to ride herd on all the kids. They did the best they could and I have no complaints on that score. Both died before I was 30 so I never really knew them as an adult. ( I enlisted in my early 20s and only got back home for occasional visits)
I’m 58 years old, and am fortunate that both of my parents are still alive: my father is 89, and my mother is 82. I’m even more fortunate that I’ve always had a good, close relationship with them.
I was never a rebellious kid, and was rarely badly-behaved; I was super-smart, highly motivated in school, and always respected my parents. To the extent that I had a difficult childhood, it was that I was a social outcast in school, especially from 4th through 8th grades, and was mercilessly picked on and teased by my classmates. My parents did what they could (which, honestly, wasn’t very much) to try to lessen that, and while even then, I recognized that there was little that they could do, I did always know that I was safe at home, and loved by them.
Once I’d gotten established in my own adult life (started a career, got married), more than once, my parents remarked to me, “We’re so happy that you’re happy now, and that your life is going well. Our hearts broke for you when you were a boy, and how badly you were treated in school, and we wished we could have done something to change that.”
As an adult, I’ve seen that my relationship with them has strengthened over the years. They’ve always been very proud of me, and I’ve tried to make sure that they know just how much I appreciate them, and the solid parenting that they gave to me.
My parents have, especially over the past 10-15 years, finally started talking openly with me about their own upbringings, and how difficult those were: my dad’s parents were emotionally distant, and weren’t particularly thrilled about having children, while my mother was the seventh of 11 children in her family, and the kids were largely left to raise themselves. As I’ve learned that, I’ve become even more impressed with the level of parenting that they provided to me, given that they didn’t have good role models, themselves.
My parents live 200 miles away, so I make sure that I talk with them on the phone a couple of times a week, and go up there to see them as often as I can; this is especially the case now, as they aren’t in great health, and I recognize that every visit is special.
He fathered that many kids starting at 62? My goodness! Wait a minute, I got that wrong, didn’t I. He was sixty two when you were born. Were you the youngest?
The Royal Wedding of Hereditary Grand Duke Guillaume and Stephanie de Lannoy 2012 - YouTube
The royal wedding in this link is like that. The man escorting the bride, at 51:00 is her older brother. She is 28. The elderly gentleman the bride and groom greet at 55:00 is the father, he is 91.
Nope, one more three years later.