We had to drive down to San Diego for the funeral of Danny's step-father of about 20 years (well, former step dad). It was a small, very beautiful service in a Jewish cemetary. Myron was Jewish and as we're not the boys were given yamakas to wear. It was a graveside service so everything you'd expect to happen did. We saw the coffin being lowered and we participated in shoveling dirt into the grave. It was solemn but happy at the same time. We let it all happen and felt that if AJ had any questions we'd just answer them. After all, death is a part of life. We didn't really say much figuring he'd ask and we'd tell him. On the way home we asked him if he had any questions about anything he saw. We figured he'd ask about the "box" or the shoveling. He said no but understood that Zaide went to live with great-grandma in Heaven. Earlier this year he went to the funeral of Danny's grandmother. About 10 minutes later he announced, "I do have a question." I braced myself for something big.
"Why did I have to wear that little hat?"
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