T.G.I.F.

Every Friday, Papa has to be dropped off to the masjid (mosque) for Friday prayer. As of a few weeks ago, this was not an easy task. The logistics of such a simple thing made Papa and I dread Fridays.

We would have to spend an hour to an hour and a half convincing Mummy to come for the drive with us because we couldn’t leave her alone at home while I drop Papa off. Anis works too far away from home to drive home during his lunch break and take Papa.

Mummy would usually cry, get angry, and cuss because of the stress of getting into a car and being driven ten minutes. Her agoraphobia wouldn’t even let her take a walk outside the house. She would finally agree, but would be in tears the whole time, saying she didn’t want to go, just leave her all alone in the house.
By the time we dropped Papa off, she’d want to come home, so we’d drive back home. Sit for half an hour, then I’d have to convince her that we needed to drive back to pick Papa up from the masjid again. Again, fighting, tears, cussing, and anger.

Then we decided we couldn’t put Mummy through this. She would be miserable the rest of the day, and it just made things worse for all of us. So Papa decided he would take public transport every Friday.

Here’s the problem with that scenario. 1) Papa is diabetic. 2) It increases the time which he’s gone, because now he has to factor in travel time, bus schedules, etc. 3) Mummy can’t survive 5 minutes without him being around. Her anxiety level shoots through the roof, almost always ending in a complete emotional meltdown.

The public transportation option lasted for one Friday before we decided it wasn’t a viable option for us.

And then we started giving her the new medicine, which completely changed all of this.

Now, instead of crying and getting angry over dropping Papa off, she’s more than eager to go for a drive, at any given time of the day.

Instead of waiting in the car for the whole hour that Papa is at prayer, or doubling the trips by going and coming back and forth, what we now do is drop Papa off, then Mummy and I go for an hour long drive until it’s time to pick Papa up again. So we’ll go get an ice cream cone from Mcdonalds, or a sweet treat from Starbucks, or we’ll go house hunting, and I’ll ask Mummy’s opinion about houses and she’ll tell me, or I’ll run errands like getting gas or going to the bank.

She enjoys the drive, but by the time Friday prayer is over and we pick Papa up, she’s ready to go home and rest again.

Fridays are no longer dreaded, there aren’t any tears shed anymore, and no more temper tantrums. Mummy gets her outing, and Papa gets to catch Friday prayer in peace, with no worries or guilt, and it serves as a mental break for him. Fridays are now enjoyed by our household.

So when Friday morning rolls around, we can now wake up saying “T.G.I.F! Thank God It’s Friday!”

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