They Held My Funeral While I Was Still Breathing. Then My Seven-Year-Old Nephew Looked Into the Coffin and Said, “Mommy, Aunt Madelyn Is Looking at Me”

I could not scream.

I could not speak.

I could not lift a hand.

But I could still, just barely, move my own eyelids, and so I looked straight at my nephew and I blinked, hard, on purpose.

The little boy went completely still.

His mouth fell open.

And then he turned around to the room full of grieving adults and said, in the flat, certain voice that only a small child can manage, “Mommy.

Aunt Madelyn is looking at me.”