It's so very difficult at times, isn't it? In the UK, at least, and certainly in our generations, we tend to be polite and the thought of hurting someone's feelings is anathema to us. I enjoy my mother's phone calls, but as she is getting older she has a lot she wants to tell me about and probably at least ⅔ of the conversation is a monologue about other people's illnesses or who has died. I don't need to know the people in question, either. She will listen to me, but is much more interested in imparting her own news these days. In a way, it is much easier because I can make the right noises in the right places and don't have to say too much about my own movements; thus meeting with no disapproval or, occasionally, approval - not that my day to day life consists of anything much that needs approval or disapproval.
I have a friend, who is the kindest person you could meet, but is the world champion of monologuing. She discovered a few years ago that she is on the autistic spectrum. She has also had a lot of physical issues in her lifetime, too. She likes to schedule a time for a phone call and will sometimes ring and talk for half an hour in order to schedule a phone call for another time. She is phoning me tomorrow evening and, being very old fashioned in many ways (only child of older parents,both of whom have died) likes to ring on the landline. I have to strain to hear on the landline these days, even with the speaker phone, as I am quite deaf so l have asked her to ring me on my mobile. I have to brace myself, because I know l am in for an hour's monologue, with only the occasional input from me when I can get a word in edgeways. Some years ago, she rang very late and I actually fell asleep in the middle of the phone call! I felt terrible, but I am sure she didn't notice. I still value our friendship very much and I know l have plenty of faults of my own.