HOLDING steady

In the early days of our relationship, my husband, Ned, and I wrote each other long, protracted emails about everything under the sun. We had so much to share: our thoughts on music, the latest movie we had seen, a funny interaction with a coworker—none of it seemed too insignificant to mention. I was living in Toronto and he was in Montreal, so we filled the distance between us with thousands of frantically typed words streaming between our inboxes.

Now, if we’re lucky enough to get in a text message, it’s usually about who is going to pick up the kids from day care or what’s for dinner. We collapse on the couch at the end of the day, too exhausted to make small talk. No, it’s not romantic in the traditional sense, but would I say we’re any less in love than during those fervent first years? Not at all. We’ve evolved, first into husband and wife, then into parents, and our relationship now encompasses more than sweet missives and bouquets of flowers.

It’s strange to think of people as static, constant things, when in truth, everyone is always changing, and our relationships are in a state of perpetual flux. I’ve been thinking lately about my strong bond with my mom—how much I rely on her for advice and wisdom (and how much she relies on me for help when she needs it, like after a recent surgery). What a massive shift from my fraught teenage years, when I thought it was I who knew everything, and she was the one helping me.

How incredible is it that, despite the constant transformations, both between one another and within ourselves, so many of our relationships are unwavering? Maybe it’s that the things that draw us together are so strong—the generosity and patience that allow us to grow, a mutual sense of love and respect, and the memories to remind us all of our shared past. Not to mention that folder of saved emails.