A father was putting his 3-year-old daughter to bed one quiet night.
As he tucked the blanket under her chin, she folded her tiny hands and whispered her bedtime prayer:
“God bless Mommy, God bless Daddy, God bless Grandma… goodbye Grandpa.”
The father froze.
“Sweetheart… why did you say goodbye to Grandpa?”
She shrugged softly.
“I don’t know. It just felt right.”
The next morning, the phone rang.
Grandpa had passed away during the night.
Shaken, the father told himself it must have been a strange coincidence — unsettling, yes, but nothing more.
Months went by. Life returned to normal.
Then one night, as he tucked her in again, she whispered:
“God bless Mommy, God bless Daddy… goodbye Grandma.”
His stomach dropped.
The next day, his wife collapsed in tears — her mother had died overnight.
This time he couldn’t pretend it was a coincidence. Something was happening, something eerie and impossible to explain.
Weeks later, he tucked his daughter in again, trying to hide the dread tightening in his chest.
She closed her eyes, breathed in gently, and whispered:
“God bless Mommy… and goodbye Daddy.”
The words hit him like ice.
He barely slept. Every sound made him jump. When morning came, he panicked and stayed far away from home — at work, in meetings, pacing hallways, terrified the next minute might be his last.
Hours crawled by.
Midnight came.
He was still alive.
Exhausted with relief, he finally drove home. When he stepped through the door, pale and shaken, his wife stared at him.
“Where have you been? You look awful!”
“You wouldn’t believe it,” he groaned. “I thought I was going to die today.”
His wife blinked in confusion — then said:
“You think your day was bad? My boss dropped dead in the middle of a meeting today!”