I had a near-death experience when I was 3. It's my earliest memory.
I fell off a high, un railed porch and smashed my head open on a rock. Yay early-80s Tennessee building codes.
Anywho, I was knocked out. Woke up two days later. But I remember my mother running to me from next door (was at grandparents' neighbors) and hovering above my body.
Now, do I believe in something after this Earthly realm? No. I believe in things I can see and all those Ghosthunter shows on SyFy are uttershit. I'd be nice if I get to spend eternity with my Nanny and Papa and even my dear old cat Maggie, but that ain't happening. The most logical answer is that my brain was just going APESHIT after I got koncked. And it interpret what my tiny, terrified 3 year old brain wanted...which was my mom.
What will happen after I die? Well, a few minutes after my body gives out, my brain will be starved for oxygen and start to shut down. In this hallucinatory state all my endorphins are going to get released because...why not? It's going to make me very happy so I will again see all my loved ones and a bright light and I assume a thousand breasts.
Several hours after my last neuron fires off, I hit room temperature and the build up of carbon dioxide in my blood causes the acidity to make my cells burst. This is the beginning of the end for my corpse, as I've now started to rot. My wishes are to be cremated and spread over something majestic, but if I have just died in a field somewhere, my body is going to start digesting itself after the first 24-72 hours.
After a few days of that delightful image all those billions of bacteria that helped me digest food have turned against me. They've been eating me and expelling gas that has bloated what's left of me.
From there out it gets even worse. My hair, nails, and teeth will begin to fall out. After about two week of being living-impared, my skin would be able to just be pulled off...because I am simply meat.
That's of the dog hasn't gotten to me first.