Tweaking

Words take on all sorts of other meanings in today's society, but tweaking still means to me the intricate final adjustments when two things fit together.

No truer is that than with relationships. Strong at first, big and bold, a present moment thrill ride that seems like it condenses life into a series of dense bursts of feeling, each stronger than the next. It's addictive, this place we go when love is new.

And then time settles us down, into a routine, and the balance sheet of compatibility begins. There are things we notice, as the relationship tweaks and broadens. We begin integrating who we are with who we are to each other. If all goes well, we advance.

No longer a roller coaster ride, the relationship is at the apex of discovery as families and friends integrate and bond. Life today is so different, the way I spend time, with whom and how. A tinge of longing bubbles up -- melancholy, maybe -- and I vaguely miss something I can't identify. What is it I forgot to pack?

The baby doves in the nest are nearly grown now, right before our eyes, nurtured and protected by their doting parents. And I wonder, as they spread their wings and hop around the hanging plant under the eaves, if they realize the changes in store on this final stretch before they complete their journey. It will never be the same once they decide to go. They will return as parents someday, under our awning off the back porch, but it will not be the same. But we will celebrate them anyway: our hearts full of hope as they flutter and fly.