When I was young, my parents had this group of families they did nearly everything with. The parents would play games, or talk, or watch a movie in one room and the kids would hang out in the other room.

I’m sure we ate, but honestly, I have a hard time remembering that part. I just remember being together all the time.

Sundays after church. Fridays just because. Vacations in the summer.

They did life together.

It was more like family than friends. Aunt her. Uncle him. Is that your sister? Basically.

They did the mundane together. They did the major together. They didn’t even live in the same neighborhoods, but they put in the work to make it work.

I remember them being there in the freezing cold to help load and haul mattresses and boxes the night my family moved, and I remember hunkering down in the same house once during a truly horrific storm.

I remember Aunt Tammy ironing clothes and folding laundry while the adults all talked in the living room. I remember Aunt Kathy making yellow cake with chocolate icing because she knew it was my favorite. I remember going shopping with my best friend and her mom and buying matching dresses.

Truly, they did life together.

I can’t even explain how badly I want that. I want it for my kids. I want it for my husband. I want it for myself.

I want someone who can encourage me when my tank is empty without any judgment. I want someone who can tell me the truth when I’m standing at a stop-still and I have no idea where to turn. I want someone to play Blackjack with and laugh about parenthood and wifehood and whatever with.

I want someone to cry with when my parents get older. I want someone who stays bright when life gets dark. I want someone to guide me back when I’ve lost my way without reservation. I want someone to celebrate alongside, and someone who can bring over champagne and chocolate cake when there’s a major success without thinking of it as bragging.

I want someone who will open the door when I show up with bare feet and a large coffee unannounced. I want someone who trusts me enough to come to me when I mess up and lets me apologize without throwing the entire thing in the garbage.

I want someone I can put down as my kid’s emergency contact without flinching, and who lets my kids play and raid their pantry when I need to run an errand, and someone my kids can respect and turn to as teenagers when it’s not cool to ask their mom.

I want someone who will help me and I want someone who isn’t the least bit afraid to ask for my help in return, cause heaven knows I’ll be right there.

Flat tire? Of course, I’ll help you push your car, but you should be warned that I’m going to laugh about it forever.

Need to borrow some milk? Yup. I’ll be right over.

Teenage daughter giving you so much sass you might explode? Spill it, and I’ll pour us some sweet tea as I listen.

Forgot to bring poster board up to the school? Gotcha covered, my friend.

Marriage getting hard? Work getting stressful? A friend broke your heart? Umm yeah, you can share. I promise your secrets aren’t going anywhere.

I want people to do life with.

The good, the bad, the pretty, the ugly, the messy, the spiritual. The fun, the difficult, the every day, and the once-in-a-lifetime. The when-you-feel-like-it, and even-when-you-don’t.

I want people to do life with.

Written by Amy Weatherly

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