I'm always fascinated by these stories, many different but often with similar core elements. This is a global experience and seems to cut across cultural and ethnic lines. In my mind, we're tied more closely than we think through our biology and mental processes.
Could it be real or merely the brain's chemical reaction to death, a way to prepare us for own demise?
I have no idea but if it provides comfort to people in times of loss then these stories are beneficial. Until they're supplanted by something else, something equally comforting and healing. Because human beings need that, a sense that life has a rhyme and reason to it, that death--as painful as it often is--also has purpose.
Btw, I stumbled across this room just today. I was happy to find it. I lost my younger sister recently. In fact my husband and I only returned from a dual memorial a week ago, a 2700-mile trip that was exhausting but worthwhile. I wrote my sister's eulogy which was also hard but worthwhile because it made me concentrate on the years we had together, the shared memories, some funny, some not. It also made me realize that though my kid sister and I were very different, our lives had always been intertwined, even when we were apart.
For me the greatest comfort was knowing she was well-loved and had loved well over the years. In the end, what better legacy can any of us leave behind?
We all have our own ways of sorting through death and loss. Whatever eases the journey and the darkness is okay by me.