Mulla Nasrudin’s wife was in the hospital on her deathbed. Just before passing away, she said to her husband, “Darling, I have only one regret as I pass on. I hate to leave you behind in all your loneliness. I just want you to know if you ever wish to remarry, you have my consent. Only, if you do, I wonder if you would promise me one thing.” “Yes, Darling,” said the Mulla, “What is it?”
“Would you promise not to let your new wife wear my old clothes to remind you of me?” she asked. “Why, certainly I promise you that,” said Nasrudin. “I wouldn’t think of doing such a thing. Besides, all of your things are too small for Fatima anyway.”