Fajr.
My mother has this habit of going off at me while I’m groggy in the mornings, such that I slip in and out of focus of what she’s actually saying—a fact which I’m sure she is aware of—but maybe it’s one of those instances where you don’t really care if the other party is listening, it’s just for the sake of getting it out of your system.
While she was trying to wake me for fajr prayer one morning, I caught her saying something along these lines:
“Who is going to wake you up for prayers when you’re in New York?”
Speaking of New York, my family is convinced I’m never coming back home, while I’m trying to convince myself that I’m even going. Bless them for their confidence in me actually making it to New York, though I don’t quite know what to make of their confidence in the “never coming back” part.
I need to be able to wake myself early enough for fajr prayer.
