As fragile humans, we can never know for sure.
My grandfather was in the final stages of a series of mini-strokes that were killing him. He was a proud, strong WWII veteran who was ending his life the one way he didn’t want to — mostly catatonic in a nursing home. He spent his days slumped over in a chair, unable to communicate, watch TV, etc.
The one thing he’d always loved were vanilla shakes. His body was shutting down so I brought him one, knowing he could still use a straw. He was about halfway through when, eyes still closed, he called me by name and said “I don’t want to live like this.”
I knew He was there at that moment. The great I AM gave me the words, “I know, Grandpa, but there’s something left that God wants you to do for him.”
The pain of that moment still haunts me, but I’m glad I was there. And those words were given to me.