The final journey

I have been thinking about death lately, for obvious reasons, particularly the tradition of the family gathering round the bedside of the dying person. Why do we do that? Is it to provide comfort to the one about to die, or to each other? Does it date back to times when people wanted to be completely sure the person was dead before the spoils were divided up? Or even more cynically, did each family member want to be there in case a last-minute bequest was made to another? I wonder because it seems to me that it must only emphasise to the dying person that this is a journey they must take alone. Which seems kind of cruel. Maybe one day I will experience it and find out.