Joe Briscolli, a retired family man with terminal cancer is lying in his deathbed when he smells the aroma of his beloved wife's locally famous chocolate chip cookies, which she knew he loved more than anything on earth. "Oh, my loving and kind wife, in my final days you comfort me stalwartly. You are my everything!"
Feebly he rolls to the edge of his bed and with Herculean strength pushes the sweaty pillow off the bed so he can crash to the floor, breaking a brittle rib in the process. "Oof!" He grunts as he pulls his body to the stairs and slowly, shakily, carefully pulls himself downstairs, breaking his hip on the last step.
Finally, in pure agony mixed with a pink haze of nostalgia and love, he reaches the wooden table of the kitchen, both of which he'd built for her over 49 years before. Arranged on the table were hundreds of chocolate chip cookies.
Joe gasped, reaching for a cookie. "Oh my dear sweet Wife, how I love you!"
Barely had Joe gotten a cookie in hand before a wooden spoon struck it from his grasp. "Joe! Those are for the funeral wake!" Screamed his wife.
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