An old man is lying on his deathbed with his children, grandchildren, and older great-grandchildren all around, teary-eyed at the approaching finale of a very long and productive life. The old man is in a terminal coma, and the doctors have confirmed that the waiting will be over within the next twenty-four hours. Suddenly, the old man opens his eyes and croaks: “I must be dreaming of heaven! I smell your grandmother’s strudel!”
“No, grandfather, you are not dreaming. Grandmother is baking strudel now.”
“I know I will never have another taste of her delicious strudel after this one. Could you please go down and get me a piece?”, the old man begs with what is left of his final breath.
One of the grandchildren is immediately dispatched to honor the old man’s last request. After a long time, he returns empty-handed.
“Did you bring me one last piece of your grandmother’s delicious strudel?” the old man plaintively queries.
“I’m very sorry, grandfather, but she says it’s for the funeral.”