I wish I could host a slumber party.
Remember back in the day you and a dozen of your closest friends would spread out sleeping bags and pillows and stuffed animals on a basement or family room floor? After pizza and ice cream there would be singing competitions that included hairbrush microphones New Kids or Paula Abdul cassettes. A few years later it would be an Ace of Base or Boys II Men cd. Underwear might be frozen, and there would be too much Truth and not enough Dare before the night turned to telling stories about bad guys hiding upstairs while you are baby-sitting.
There might be drama. There might be tears. But mostly it was just a lot of fun.
I need a slumber party.
I want to gather my friends from all the seasons of my life. I want to stay up late telling stories - the hard stories, the heroic stories, the laugh-until-you-pee-your-pants stories.
My last night of college a few of us put our mattresses in the hallway of W2S. I don't remember what was said that night, but I still remember how I felt. Life was good, and I had been given yet another set of amazing friends.
Oh, how I wish I could have all my different friends together, perhaps for a weekend. Or better yet, a week.We would laugh and cry. We would sing and pray. We would reminisce. We would dream.
I have talked to so many friends in the last few weeks. Some dealing with big stuff, some dealing with not-as-big-stuff, and some who have just come through stuff. We need each other. We need pizza and chick-flicks and sleeping bags. It won't solve everything, but it's a start.