Sam!
Sam!
Gosh, where are you, come quick.

Fatima was almost screaming to get my attention, I felt a sense of unease at her obvious state of panic. “What is it?”

Sam, your Dad has been hospitalised. Your mum called to inform you, but you were out, and I took the call. She says his condition is serious but stable. He has been admitted to the intensive care unit.

As Fatima uttered the words my world began to spin, my father my advisor and best friend. My brain had stopped processing, and it all just sounded like words spoken underwater. My dad, although, upset with my reversion, had still kept in touch. But in the last month, we had spoken less often as the constant bickering between my mum and I placed him in the unenviable position of being caught up between the two women he loved most.

My instinct at that time was to turn to Allah, and I sat on my prayer mat beseeching Allah to grant my father full Shifa-e-khameelah or healing. I always seemed to find solace in my conversations with Allah and this time it was no different.

Amazingly, it is in these moments with Allah, in quiet contemplation do we realise how puny we are, how worthless without Allah.

My tears flowed as guilt overtook my thoughts — Dad had been asking me to come home to visit for some time and my insecurities and fears had made me stall. I had always said I would when I felt ready. I had forgotten that life is short and every moment is precious.

As I read through my Qur’an, I felt a calm flow over me and several times I caught Fatima looking at me with concern and care but knowing that I had found my peace.

Often, we hear parents say to their children that are an amanaah from Allah to whom they belong. But, we forget to teach them that parents belong to Allah, and we won’t always be together and there definitely is no forever.

We have to take comfort in knowing that only Allah is Al-Hayyu, the ever-living. We are just travellers, on a layover, in this world.

I called my mother then. She would need my support and I needed her more than ever. “Mum, it’s me,” I said with a trembling in my voice and tears already coursing down my face.

I heard her take a deep breath as she broke down, and her request left me more concerned. “Pray for your Dad, Sam, he needs it.”

“Sam, Dad has tested positive for the Covid and the doctors are concerned that his heart condition will make treatment difficult or worsen his condition,” she informed me tearfully.

My heart shattered at the thought of my father lying in the hospital, with no visitation allowed, he would be alone. What if he died without me having the opportunity to tell me that I loved him and that I was grateful to him for all that he had done for me? But, my mother needed my support and I would uphold that right as best as I could, in sha Allah.

Since, entering Islam, I had made fervent dua every single day that my parents and my brother would see the beauty of the Deen, that they would come to accept it as I had.

Now, I realised that this could be Allah’s plan at work and a test for me. I had to turn to him to now, with a sincere prayer to heal my father and to guide my family to Islam.