Sometimes in our grief we want to see things that we would ignore otherwise.
My mother came to visit my autistic nephew the night that she died. She told him that she loved him and that she would not be able to see him anymore. He wasn’t afraid or phased by it.
Interestingly, the same night my mother’s spirit allegedly visited my nephew, my sister and I (we live 1,700 miles away from each other) both woke up at the same time (3 AM her time, 2 AM my time). We both experienced a sense of dread, as if something was wrong with the world.
My nephew mentioned it in passing during breakfast in the morning.
Shortly afterwards, she got the call from my father that mom was gone.
Autistic children are extremely bright and very blunt. They have no filter and are quite literal, so telling lies is not a skill they possess.
I believe my nephew.
Moreover, I know my mom. She was a devout believer and followed a loving, godly path her whole life, raising us all in the church. If anyone could ask for a final goodbye and be granted it by our Heavenly Father, it would be her.