When our son Shayne was about five years old, he developed a rather unusual interest.
He loved going to funerals.
Nagib and I were slightly puzzled.
What five-year-old wants to go to funerals?
But, being his parents, we naturally came up with the most flattering explanation possible.
Perhaps he was deeply spiritual.
Perhaps he was an old soul.
Perhaps there was something profoundly sensitive about this little boy who seemed so drawn to these solemn occasions.
We may even have felt just a tiny bit proud of the exceptional child we were raising.
For a few months, this remained one of the great mysteries of our family. Until we discovered the truth.
Roshyma, who would often take Shayne to the funeral was taking him to McDonald’s afterwards.
That was it.
That was the spiritual awakening.
The boy wasn’t contemplating the meaning of life. He was contemplating French fries.
Today, many years later, Nagib and I went to the funeral of a dear school friend of ours.
And with us was Shayne’s five-year-old son, Mos.
There was something very tender about watching another little five-year-old experience something that is part of life, even if he doesn’t fully understand it yet.
And afterwards. Well, obviously…
We took Mos to McDonald’s.
He got a Happy Meal.
And I couldn’t help but smile at the full-circle moment.
Shayne, once the five-year-old following a funeral with French fries. And now his own five-year-old son doing exactly the same thing.
Life is funny that way.
Some traditions are carefully planned and lovingly passed from one generation to the next. And some apparently begin because somebody stopped at McDonald’s on the way home.
