CHARLESTON, W.Va. -- While many of us were overloading the pumpkin pie with whipped cream, while we were watching parades and football games and tsk-tsking news reports of bad behavior at stores, a friend was practicing how to say goodbye to his mom.

It's been a long-time coming. She's nearly 90. Lived a full life. Has no regrets.

As it so often can be, the pain of her slow passing seems spread among those she's leaving behind. He said she mostly sleeps while they watch, and frequently, when she wakes, she looks past them, to the corner of the room.

When that happens, he said her gaze will often seem to soften, and sometimes, she'll smile and try to lift her hand to reach toward whatever, or whomever, she's seeing.

Not long ago, I read an article by David Kessler about his new book, "Visions, Trips and Crowded Rooms: Who and What You See Before You Die," where he discussed the commonalities between those who are dying.

Among the most frequent of the shared occurrences are visits from those who have already passed.

The author's own father, who had always been an upbeat and optimistic man, became extraordinarily sad near the end, talking frequently about the many things he was going to miss. Until one morning when he told David that his wife--David's mother--had visited him the night before. Except she had died when David wasn't yet in his teens.

Said his father: "I was looking at all I was losing, and I'd forgotten that I was going to be with her again. I'm going to see her soon."

His father then looked at his son, who he realized he was leaving behind.

"We'll be there waiting for you," his father said.

David hadn't seen his father so excited in years. He went from a hopeless, dying man to one who was looking forward to being reunited with those he loved.

When the author was younger, there was a time he chalked deathbed visions up to the brain lacking oxygen or as being the side effect of morphine, but after much research, he now recognizes there's more to it than that.

He noted that most often, the dying are visited by their mothers.

"It shouldn't be too surprising that the person who is actually present as we cross the threshold of life and take our first breaths once again appears at the threshold as we take our last breaths," writes the author.

"If you find the concept of a dead loved one greeting you on your deathbed impossible or ridiculous, consider what I finally realized as a parent: You protect your children from household dangers. You hold their hands when they cross the street on their first day of school. You see them through as many milestones as you can."

If those who have already passed realize their child is soon to die, it makes sense they would want to go be with their child.

Regardless of what your personal beliefs might be, it's important to recognize the final days and hours of a loved one's life might include much that isn't easily explainable. Even if you believe it's nothing but a hallucination, that whomever they're seeing is nothing more than misfiring synapses, it's important not to disagree with them.

 Just because what's happening is--or isn't--scientifically explainable doesn't mean it's invalid. There's no reason to discredit what you don't understand. Instead, ask the person what's being said, encourage reminiscing, let them know you're grateful the visitor is there.

To know those we love aren't alone as they pass from this life is a gift. One I wish I'd known more about years ago.

As my friend struggles with bidding farewell to his mom, I hope he's able to experience the peace that comes with recognizing there are other ways of saying goodbye.

I hope he says see you later instead.

Reach Karin Fuller at karinful...@gmail.com.