My husband, Steve, and I saw "RV" over the Fourth of July holiday, a movie that we could both agree on, as I like Robin Williams and Steve likes anything to do with RVs. (He imagines us crisscrossing the country in an RV when we retire. I like camping, but I'm not sure they make an RV with enough space to accommodate the two of us.)

"We're on a date," I told the kids, addressing their puzzled looks as we left together, something that doesn't happen often these days. I work long hours and have a long commute, which means that when I'm not at work, I like being at home, relaxing on my new living room couch or putzing around the kitchen.

Steve, on the other hand, works closer to home and logs fewer hours on the job, so he's always eager for an outing. That, and he's always been more social than I am, ready to go with only the slightest encouragement.

After 30 years together, it's amazing how different Steve and I are: He embraces excitement; I like quiet. He dilly-dallies with what he does; I'm very focused. He meanders on a road trip; I want to get there. And, most noticeably right now, as I sit here writing with a blanket around me, he loves air-conditioning and I'm always cold.

Marriage seems to bring some people more in step with each another, but Steve and I have always moved to different drummers.

I've been thinking about this recently, especially after having met my older son's new girlfriend. John, 26, lives in Cleveland, and his new friend has been away at school. They visited for the first time over the holiday weekend.

She is very nice: Young, I thought — but I liked her easy, comfortable manner and how her blue eyes sparkled when she laughed. And it was obvious that my son likes her, too.

At a Sunday afternoon cookout, they sat side by side on a swing, talking quietly. He likely was sharing details of his childhood, who was who at the party and how everyone was connected.

Attentive to each other, playful in their interactions, they reminded me of Steve and me in our early days together.

Now, three decades and three kids later, our relationship has evolved. Is it still exciting? Not like before. Playful? Sometimes. Yet there is a comfortable rhythm that I have come to appreciate.

Leaving the movie, Steve and I stopped at our favorite watering hole and, without needing to ask, he ordered the usual — red wine for me and beer for him. We talked about the movie — he liked it, I didn't — and John's new friend. We also talked about Steve's new boss, the kids, my work, and all the things we need to do before going on vacation.

Sitting there in the darkness, though, I could feel the depth of our shared experiences. Good times, yes. Challenging ones, too. Caring for children, losing jobs, aging parents, surviving sickness. Somehow, over time, marriage has become a union of spirits, despite our differences.

Linda K. Schmitmeyer is a freelance writer living in Middlesex Township. Her e-mail address is lks260@zoominternet.net.