  last night i got a call from an old friend. she hadn't been well and decided that by calling me she might regain some of what she had lost in her life. she called my old house, where my wife, or more appropriately, soon-to-be-ex-wife, still lives. during this first call she was told that i didn't live there anymore, that we had separated, i having moved to my own apartment, i having my own new phone number. the she called my apartment, left me a message, and when i got home i called her back. it was late and i wasn't sure she would answer. but she did, and we talked for awhile, catching up with one another's lives, seeing were both of us had been for the past couple of years. she was ill and had been having a difficult time. i had a marriage fall apart, moved into my own place, found someone else to hold onto. changes, it seemed, had occurred. but our voices were the same, and the same old jokes still played well for this audience.
there was the same old comfortability, the same old inflections on certain words. a lot was the same. and i realized the old saying, "the more things change, the more they stay the same," was a little more accurate than i ever realized. she said to me on the phone, "man, have things changed with you. " i said to her, "no. not really. i'm still the same. " 
