I din't have a NDE, but two times in life i had tremendous (awake) spiritual experiences. Each was different, each happened in different circumstances, and each is a long story if i was to try to describe them.
But a detail in one of them confirms rudensky's "all is well on the other side" experience.
Let me just briefly note that the 'rest' of that spiritual experience, and the whole of the other one, wasn't at all of this kind of tellable little story or scene or 'vision' or whatever you'd call this. Other aspects/parts of the experiences were describable -- if at all -- in terms of ultimate-Awakeness, All-is-One-is-All, everpresent-invisible-Father-that-permeats-Everything, Time-doesn't-exist-except-the-Moment-One-which-is-Now, a-Roaring-Silence-that-is-everpresent-and-is-louder-than-whole-world-yet-we-are-deaf-to-it, etc; to put it most briefly possible. One of the two was, you could say, a classic Satori experience.
Anyway, the only part of those experiences in which (part) i "saw" something that wasn't actually around me in the given moment, was a scene where i was waking up on a floor of a large room (or a hall) along with countless other people, all waking up in their own time. There was an extremelly cheerful little old man (rather small and with a largish bald head :) next to me, as i was waking up -- and somehow at the same time next to everyone, as we were waking up all around the room -- that i somehow immediately knew was our Father. Actually, i (and everyone else) was recognizing
him, because we were waking up from our lives (for me it is this life), which obviously turned out to be dreams, dreamt on the floor of the large room.
But, dreams or not, we were all astounded, suddenly realising in the waking moment how cruel and stupid we were in our lives; and espec. upon seeing and recognizing the Father, we were terribly
ashamed of how badly and selfishly we performed in the dreams.
But the little old man, into whose embrace we were lifting ourselves from the floor on which we slept, didn't want to even start to listen to our self-loathing moans. He was shutting us up immediately, with a indescribably wide smile that was actually barely holding itself from bursting into laughter, because there was some incredibly great thing, or a joke, that he had on his mind, and could hardly wait to show us.
To the still puzzled and ashamed us, he was going like "Hush, hush, i know, i know, don't worry about that, i know! it's not important, come here, look at THIS!" - and he was taking us towards the only door in the room's walls (for some reason the door was in one of the corners). Behind the door was this Uncredibly Great Something he wanted to show us, whatever it was, the Something because of which it didn't matter at all how bad we were in our lives/dreams;
Of course, i din't see what it was. I know i will. I had a feeling it had something to do with the lives/dreams, and that maybe the Whole that we dreamt-out together had some aspect, or something about it, that no one of us dreamers expected or knew about, some terrific, hilarious cosmic joke, a joke that makes everything all right.
(the scene was actually more a scene of one brief moment, in which waking up, and everything else, was more aspects of the moment, than a succession of moments; but it can be told only this way)