This is an e-mail forward that I got from my colleague Gene who is Filipino like me.
This is for all the Filipinos out there, and those who are lucky enough to have Filipino friends, those who have Filipino spouses and those who have Filipino next door neighbors. The story goes like this…
The elderly man lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favorite food, Filipino lumpia.
Gathering his remaining strength, he lifted himself from the bed. Leaning against the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort, steadying himself against the walls with both hands he inched his way to the kitchen. With labored breath, he leaned against the door frame and gazed 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 food, LUMPIA.
Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of heroic love from his devoted wife of 60years, 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 crumpled posture. Painfully, he reached up with his right hand and weakly groped on the table surface until he felt the oily warmth of one of his rolled favorite dish. His arthritic fingers wrapped around one, gingerly picked it up and brought it down. His parched lips slowly parted and as he slowly brought to his mouth, the wondrous taste of that lumpia already overwhelmed him, seemingly bringing him back to life. The aged and withered hand trembled on the lumpia, when he was suddenly smacked with a spatula by his wife.
“Get out of here!” she shouted. “These are for your funeral!”