Our family has a story that is rather less dramatic than these, but its ours.
Grandmother P. used to tell us that when she was little, _her_ grandmother died and according to the practice of the day was laid out, unembalmed, in her parlor. That evening or the next, with a house full of mourners, she abruptly sat up, looked around, and asked who were all these people and what the **** were they doing in her parlor?
After the commotion died away, she recovered fully and lived six more years until, as Mrs P. put it, she died for good.
-Glenn