Terminal lucidity is relatively common. It happens, as the name suggests, when a person in the terminal stages of this life—confused, semi-comatose, disconnected, noncommunicative—suddenly becomes alert, articulate and lucid. 

I recently accompanied a friend to visit his neighbor in a medical facility. The man was ornery—curmudgeonly is the word that came to mind—but I didn’t blame him; he was quite ill and uncomfortable.

I was out of state when he passed, but my friend and a few others were at his bedside. He’d been nearly unresponsive for some time. Suddenly, he awoke, sat up, looked at each individual, and proclaimed, “You have no idea how much God loves his children.” Then he drifted off to sleep and died.

I’ve witnessed terminal lucidity more than once. From a medical perspective, it’s not well understood. From a spiritual perspective, I believe our greatest lucidity comes when the veil of flesh is thin and penetrable. That veil may be most penetrable when someone is actually stepping through it. I’m glad they sometimes get a moment to share their experience with us.