Ready for House

In Trinidad and Tobago, to be declared ‘ready for house’, one is seen to have certain qualities that supposedly prepare them for marriage. Typically, it’s often said of people who can cook. If anyone knows me, they would know that by measure of that yardstick, I am no way near ready for house. Pretty much by any yardstick for that matter, I find myself falling horribly short of that title, and often I’d jokingly make my boast in it. You should see my room right now. Of course, by then you’d have probably seen too much, and I’d have to erase your memory somehow. It really isn’t that bad though… I hope. The truth is, I’m hardly home, and by extension the house is the area to which I show the most neglect. At the very least, if you need someone to wash the dishes, I’m your guy 😉

Well, in recent times, a lot of the above forcefully changed.

You could say that I haven’t chosen the ‘ready for house life’, but the ready for house life has begun to choose me. The main caretaker of our home, my mother, has been in the hospital for a while due to a procedure that she had to do. My father works until really late, and my brother and I still have to eat and so on, so just like that we had to learn to cook in a trial of fire… literally. It wasn’t just cooking either. Cleaning the house, ironing clothes (my father handles the laundry otherwise) and yes, washing the dishes, were never all activities I would tell you that I`d be planning to do after work if you asked me about a week ago.

I’m not an expert chef or anything now, and my clothes still have a few wrinkles in them at the end of the day. So perhaps, I’m still not ready for house yet. The food didn’t burn and I’m alive to write this post, so I’d say I’m off to a good start. Strangely enough I’m glad for the opportunity that has been given to me, because I believe it is encouraging a level of maturity  that I haven’t experienced before, and if life has taught me anything, it’s that if this is the lesson, there will be a test… but I’ll be ready for it.

What has life taught me in all this? Life is precious. You take things for granted until you find yourself without them. You don’t have to go through or do things alone; let people help you. Cooking isn’t rocket science. Google makes everything a little easier. Trust God. His peace helps you have the strength to pull through, even when it’s hopeless. A handful of true friends is greater than a bucket of acquaintances. Rest is important.

Maybe you are ready for house. Perhaps you’re just like me and getting there by the grace of God, but no matter where you are, you’re always able to make a difference in your world. So pitch in today if you can; not just in your home, but in your school, workplace, church, community… wherever you see a need that you can help fill. A little sacrifice can go a long way. When Jesus died for us and paid our debts for our mistakes, His sacrifice stretched toward all eternity. In following His example, let’s try to see how our sacrifice can benefit others and make them happy. Trust me, you’ll be happy too 🙂 Enjoy your day everyone!

A thing or two about Dad

So today my mother made a complaint about how the washing machine needed some “filter” or the other cleaned, further accusing my dad to have at once upon a time cleaned said filter. He, of course, recalled nothing of the sort. At the time I heard of this, my father was asleep, and so my brother and I went on ahead and began our conquest to fix the issue, like real men should, without waiting for backup by my father (also like real men should).

We had no idea what we were doing. We began unscrewing stuff, based on the description of the mysterious filter from my mother, and had almost taken the entire backing out before my father arrived. With all hands on deck, we didn’t quite take the back out, but upon inspection, no filter was to be found. And so, we pretty much wasted our time trying so hard to fix something without any directions, instructions or anything of that sort; just wits, tools and muscle. 

Like real men. 

Why was this story significant, you ask? The entire experience reminded me much of when I was younger; standing around staring at my father working in between his barks of “ting dis ting” or “hand me da ting dey” and somehow understanding exactly what he meant. Oh yes! My favourite; “DROP YOUR HAND!” was one that always annoyed the heck out of me. It was different, on this occasion, for it felt no longer as if it was I merely tagging along as a child with his father, but us putting our wits, tools and muscle together as men of equal strength to achieve a common goal. And that was strange for me, for I haven’t much seen myself as working alongside him, but rather being slave driven to work for him. 

My father and I were never the best of friends, and even now, I don’t really talk to him that much, more for the fact that our schedules don’t match than anything else. It always felt as things were his way or no way at all. I felt as if his favourite tool was the hammer, because when things won’t fit in the way he’d want it to he’d whip it out and bang it right into place, instead of trying to align things the way it should be. Don’t get me wrong, he made it work, which was an admirable feat in itself, but the brute force he often placed on the situations around him often left bruises in places that found it hard to simply ignore. 

He didn’t always make the best decisions, and often held on to money so much that work was harder and the reward not satisfying, but he tries his best to make what we have work. Sometimes, he would respond in a manner to suggest that he felt as if he knew everything, which would REALLY get on my nerves, and the one thing that he did the most that made me absolutely furious was believe that I was obsessed with video games. I know, it sounds so trivial, but it felt as if he infringed on my identity. As if he knew who I was, and that he was placing his stamp of disapproval on me. Mind you, back then I loved my video games very much, but I was never obsessed with them. The amount of restraint that was placed on me because of this belief most likely further concreted this statement in his mind since I would sneak around to play often, but it was more my lack of anything to do (other than study) and immense boredom that pushed me over the edge. 

And playing games with that adrenaline rush? Priceless 😉

All in all, he is a great and honourable man, and despite never having seen eye to eye with him in my younger days, I love and appreciate all that he has done for me and continues to do even to this day. I am who I am because of his inputs into my life (whether I liked them or not) and God found it necessary to place him in my life. And so even now, forgetting and forgiving the past, we press on to future labours, hearts mended and ready for anything. 

Like real men 🙂