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.
My mom lived with me until she died and she was short and needed a step stool to reach the kitchen cabinets. She was very adamant about no one else using her step stool and failing to return it to where she kept it. If it was out of place when she reached for it I’d hear about it loudly.
The night my mom died in 1998 I came home from the hospital and was up late sending out email notices to family and friends and co-workers. I was in my carpeted den at the time. Her step stool which had been sitting in the corner of the room behind some other stuff, came rolling out end-over-end and stopped in the middle of the room, upright on its legs.
I knew right away that was my ‘ring’. Whenever I was on a road trip, just before retiring I’d call home and let the phone ring once so mom would know I was still OK. So that stepstool trick was mom letting me know she had reached her destination safely.
She did other things but I don’t want to write a book. Suffice to say, I have no doubts whatever about the afterlife.