There are a myriad of ways to nourish relationships. A kiss when you wake up. Anniversary dates. Walks in the evening. Smiles across the table. While it is possible, even prudent at times, to stick to the familiar patterns occasional shake ups have their place too.

 

The pandemic has narrowed our options for in person gatherings, but it has thrown open the windows for virtual ones. This week John and I met with the four groups we lead, which includes friends from six countries. We also zoomed with nine couples who are stepping into a mentoring relationship. They will gather through screens monthly, to tell stories and appreciate their partners. 

 

John and I have fallen short in many arenas, as far as our partnership goes. We do not play tennis, or belong to a book club. All attempts to get physical exercise have slumped in a heap like yesterday's clothes in the bathroom. We do not go to bed at the same time, as some authors suggest as an imperative. He plays piano, and I quilt. But those are separate activities. 

 

Yet for most of our forty years we have kept our marriage on the calendar. By that I mean there was a date I could point to, on which we would both show up and sit side by side. There were, I confess, evenings when the tug of rascally children made such plans inconvenient. On other occasions it was my own disgruntled mood that threatened to derail any inclination to join a circle of couples and pretend to be friendly. 

 

But in those modest efforts to swivel marriage from a noun to a verb, we have recalibrated our commitment with hundreds of minor nudges. I can recall times I did not especially want to say nice things about him at the start of a meeting. But I always did by the end.