Cxt Ministries

I hate insects, bugs, anything that crawls. I hate mosquitoes too. I often wonder why God created them actually. They are pests! Life would be great if none of them existed, at least my life.

You might be wondering the source of all the anger and frustration. Well, my husband bought me a house. It was a surprise gift in celebration of our first anniversary last month. Don’t get me wrong I love the house it was beautiful. It was a classic–brick walls, high ceilings, chimney, and a huge fireplace. According to my husband we were just the second owner, if this was true then the previous owner either didn’t care maintaining the house or they had a weird choice in pets. You see, when I did a random inspection, the pests I was ranting about earlier, well, they were under the cupboard; they were having a field day crawling in my walls, and don’t get me started with the kitchen closets! They are practically everywhere! So I had no choice but to call the Dallas pest control service right there and then. I needed to fix my house and I needed the pests to be exterminated as soon as possible.

I love my husband for his thoughtfulness really, but I really wished he cleaned up the house before he showed it to me.

We have a part time housekeeper named Rosita, she is Mexican. She has been with us ever since I was a little girl. Honestly, I spend more time with her when I was younger than I did with my own mother. She doesn’t have a family of her own and she said that she is no longer interested in having one.

She is loyal and has genuine concern. And although she only worked part time she always gave more that what was expected of her. We wouldn’t know what to do in the house if she wasn’t around. That is why I had a talk with my mother yesterday about her. I wanted her to consider paying Rosita’s individual health insurance. Rosita is not getting any younger and with her salary and high rate of medical expenses I don’t think that she could afford to get sick. And I don’t think that was fair considering the way she is looking after all of us. I doubt if there is any other woman like Rosita in the planet. It is really a shame that she decided that she doesn’t want kids because she would have been a terrific mother. And it would have been nice to see her being taken cared of for a change.

I was in the mall yesterday killing time, doing a little window shopping. My grandmother’s birthday is coming up and I don’t know yet what to get her so this maybe a good time to find something. It’s embarrassing to realize that I know very little about my grandma. I have a very vague idea of what interests her, what makes her happy, sad, or angry.

There is one thing I am certain, though, she spends a lot of time in the kitchen. She is, for me, without a doubt the best cook in the world. She has a lot of original recipes that are mouthwatering. And even if she was cooking a popular dish, she still managed to make it her own by adding some herbs and spices. “Blending the right herbs and spices,” this was her usual response when asked about her cooking secret. While I was thinking about all these I passed by the kitchen ware section and saw a spice grinder on sale. Then it hit me, this is the perfect gift for grandma! I know she will have a blast grinding herbs and spices using it and in turn we will also have a blast eating her flavorful dishes. I am so excited to give this to her, my tummy can’t wait too!

I am all alone here in New York City, still waiting for my big singing break. Actually I have been waiting for eight years now. I do amaze myself sometimes, I had no idea I was this persevering and this patient. I work two part time jobs and in the evenings I go bar hopping performing on open mike nights praying and hoping that a music executive is watching in the audience and will give me a record deal.

That is how I live my life, day after day. I am a struggling singer and lately I am really lonely. I miss my family and I miss my friends in New Jersey. But what I miss the most is going on family vacation. I know that most people find it awkward hanging out with their respective families but not me. I love spending vacation with mine. There was this one time we went to Miami and spent almost every waking hours at the beach. So much so that I didn’t just get a tan, I was literally toasted and I didn’t mind; we had the best time.

As much as I would like to come home, I can’t just yet. I promised myself and my folks that I am not going home as a failure or a quitter. I will see this through until I am living my dream.

My parents used to love and adore each other. They used to be the best of friends, they laughed a lot, talked a lot, and hugged a lot. I always thought that we were a pretty awesome, if not a perfect family. I believed it until the day I was shaken back to reality that perfection does not exist in real life.

I was and still am clueless on what happened to them. The only thing I remembered was my dad saying a lot of weird stuff about goodbyes, parting, and staying in touch while we ate our midnight snack under the sad glow of our kitchen lights. Somehow the glimmer of the light was as gloomy as the atmosphere that night. But I may have been really stupid because I didn’t have the slightest clue on what was happening. The next morning my dad was gone. My mom was the one left trying to explain how they have grown to be different persons in the years that passed; how they have fallen out of love, hence, the decision to separate.

I was lost. I was confused. I felt betrayed that I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye, that I wasn’t consulted on what I thought about what was happening or how I felt. That was how I felt then; funny, it has been five years and four months since I found out, but I still feel the same.