An elderly Italian man lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of
impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favorite Italian
anisette sprinkle cookies wafting up the stairs. Gathering his remaining
strength, he lifted himself from the bed. Leaning against the wall, he
slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort,
gripping the railing with both hands he crawled downstairs. With labored
breath, he leaned against the door frame, gazing into the kitchen.
Were if not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already in
heaven. For there, spread out upon waxed paper on the kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favorite anisette sprinkled cookies.
Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of heroic love from his devoted
Italian wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a happy
man?
Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards the table,
landing on his knees in a crumpled posture. His parched lips parted. In
another second, the wondrous taste of the cookie would be in his mouth,
bringing him to new life.
The aged and withered hand trembled on its way to a cookie at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked with a spatula by his wife. "Get outta here!" she shouted, "They're for the funeral!"
impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favorite Italian
anisette sprinkle cookies wafting up the stairs. Gathering his remaining
strength, he lifted himself from the bed. Leaning against the wall, he
slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort,
gripping the railing with both hands he crawled downstairs. With labored
breath, he leaned against the door frame, gazing into the kitchen.
Were if not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already in
heaven. For there, spread out upon waxed paper on the kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favorite anisette sprinkled cookies.
Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of heroic love from his devoted
Italian wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a happy
man?
Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards the table,
landing on his knees in a crumpled posture. His parched lips parted. In
another second, the wondrous taste of the cookie would be in his mouth,
bringing him to new life.
The aged and withered hand trembled on its way to a cookie at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked with a spatula by his wife. "Get outta here!" she shouted, "They're for the funeral!"
