An older friend of mine was told by the docs in the hospital that he only had a few days left.
So he went home to the comfort of his own bed. Later that day he smelled chocolate chip cookies being baked.
He yelled that he wanted some, but his voice was so weak that no one heard him. He fell out of bed and crawled all the way to the kitchen, where his always loyal wife of 52 years was making the cookies.
He reached up to grab one off the table, but his wife swatted his hand away: "They're for the wake."