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In Ireland, there is a tradition that holds that a dying man may ask one last question, and that it be answered truthfully.
Seamus had come to the end of his days; his time on this planet was short. Gathered around him were his wife and his four sons. Three of his sons were fine, tall men, but the fourth…wasn’t. Aiden was a bit scrawny, and quite thin. Seamus says to his wife: “Mary…I’ve not much time left. So I want to ask you something that’s bothered me for many a day. Please tell me the truth…is Aiden really my son?” Mary says, “Seamus, as God is my witness, I swear on all that’s good and holy that Aiden is indeed your child.” With that, Seamus breathed a sigh of relief, his last breath in this world. Mary closed his eyes, pulled the blanket over his face and said: “Whew…thank God he didn’t ask about the other three!”
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