As Abbie lay in his bed, he contemplated his impending death. Suddenly smelling the aroma of roast brisket, his favorite food, wafting up the stairs, he gathers his remaining strength and lifts himself from the bed. Leaning against the wall, he slowly makes his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands he crawls downstairs.
With labored breath, he leans against the door frame, and gazes into the kitchen. Were it not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already in Heaven. For there, on the kitchen table, was the biggest roast brisket he had ever seen.
He couldn’t help thinking, was this already Heaven or was it one final act of love from his devoted wife, Bessie, of sixty-five years, allowing him to leave this world happy man?
With one great final effort, he throws himself towards the table, landing on his knees in a crumpled posture. His parched lips parted, the wondrous taste of the succulent meat already in his mouth, seemingly brings him back to life. His aged and withered hand trembles as it grasps a carving knife laying next to the platter when it is suddenly smacked with a spatula by his wife.
"Don’t touch that, Abe! " she shouts, "That's for the shivah!"