Darlene
09-22-03, 04:05 PM
An elderly Irishman lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of impending death, 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, gripping the railing with both hands, he
crawled downstairs. 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, for there, spread out upon waxed paper 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 Irish 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 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 trembled on its way to a
cookie at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly
smacked with a spatula by his wife...... Bugger off"" she
said, "they're for the funeral."
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, gripping the railing with both hands, he
crawled downstairs. 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, for there, spread out upon waxed paper 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 Irish 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 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 trembled on its way to a
cookie at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly
smacked with a spatula by his wife...... Bugger off"" she
said, "they're for the funeral."