Cookies

An elderly man lay dying in his bed. In death's agony, he suddenly
smelled the aroma of his favorite chocolate chip
cookies wafting up the stairs. He gathered his remaining strength, and
lifted himself from the bed.

Leaning against the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom,
and with even greater effort forced himself
down the stairs, gripping the railing with both hands.

With labored breath, he leaned against the door frame, gazing into the
kitchen. Were it not for death's agony, he
would have thought himself already in heaven. There, spread out upon
newspapers on the kitchen table were
literally hundreds of his favorite chocolate chip cookies.

Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of heroic love from his devoted
wife, seeing to it that he left this world a happy
man?

Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself toward the table,
landing on his knees in a rumpled posture. His
parched lips parted; the wondrous taste of the cookie was already in
his mouth; seemingly bringing him back to life.
The aged and withered hand, shakingly made its way to a cookie at the
edge of the table, when it was suddenly
smacked with a spatula by his wife.

"Stay out of those," she said, "they're for the funeral.