In 2016, author Saoirse Brown’s husband, Richard Howorth, died of esophageal cancer at the age of 47. Like so many people who have lost loved ones, she was plunged into heartfelt grief and began to question everything about life-and-death. What happens after we die? Is there a heaven? Is there an afterlife? Then in an extraordinary series of events Saoirse began to get answers. In The Right Path, she shares the story of her life with and the love for her husband, as well as her spiritual awakening and psychic abilities that began after his death. She tells of the incredible connection with the other side, her spirit guides and beautiful angels that were present offering love, support and guidance to a new life, and during this process managed to find peace and happiness. This memoir chronicles the details of Saoirse’s incredible and unusual spiritual journey where she was able to piece together so much of what has remained a mystery to so many people for so long, offering answers to many questions asked about life and death. Saoirse Brown is the mother of two young adult children and lives in Surrey, United Kingdom. She was widowed at the age of forty-seven after the death of her husband Richard, with whom she had spent twenty-four years. Since the tragic loss Saoirse has trained in a range of therapies, becoming a Mindfulness Coach, Hypnotherapist, EFT Practitioner, Reiki Master and a Spiritual Advisor. The Right Path Life After Death By Saoirse Brown Balboa Press Copyright © 2018 Saoirse Brown All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-982213-79-4 Contents Acknowledgments, ix, Introduction, xi, Chapter 1 Changes, 1, Chapter 2 The Roller Coaster of Treatment, 13, Chapter 3 No Words, 25, Chapter 4 I Love You, Treasure, 37, Chapter 5 What Do I Do Now?, 45, Chapter 6 The Right Path, 61, Chapter 7 Moving Forward, 75, Chapter 8 A New Way of Living, 93, Chapter 9 Believe, 107, Chapter 10 Freedom, 121, Chapter 11 The Biggest Test of All, 133, Chapter 12 Mindfulness, 145, Afterword, 155, Bibliography, 163, CHAPTER 1 CHANGES It doesn't look good. Just four words. Four little words. Four little words that took everything I loved and held dear and crushed it into a million pieces. It doesn't look good. My head was spinning as a wave of panic surged through my body. I willed myself to look calm and matter-of-fact as I stole a glance at Rick who was sitting rigid and expressionless in the chair beside me. The only hint at his reaction was that the color had completely drained from his face. I reached out and put my hand on his knee. Rick continued to stare straight ahead at the doctor seated behind the large desk that divided us. "As it is now late on Friday evening, we will need to wait until Monday to get the full results of the blood tests and the endoscopy," the doctor intoned. He began shuffling paperwork on his desk. I sensed he wanted us to go. It was getting late. Most of the other departments had already closed, and staff were quickly exiting the building. Yet Rick and I didn't move. We were waiting for the punchline. But I am sure there is nothing to worry about. The punchline never came. Finally, with the awkward silence enveloping us, we got to our feet and walked outside. Neither of us said a word as we stumbled to our car. As we passed the reception area, a nurse was chatting loudly with the woman seated behind the large desk. Just as we passed, the receptionist let out a hoot of laughter at her friend's joke. How can you be laughing at a time like this? I thought. Just how? The car park was half-full. It was a private hospital, and most of the day patients had no doubt long gone home and were looking forward to a weekend with their families. We found our car, and Rick clicked the key fob to unlock the door. I slipped into the passenger seat, my heart still thumping. "Don't worry. I'm sure it is nothing," Rick said. He wasn't looking at me. He was staring ahead, his hands gripping the top of the steering wheel tightly. So tightly, in fact, his knuckles were almost white. I swallowed hard. I knew I needed to say something but didn't know what. In our relationship, Rick had always been the more upbeat one — the glass-half-full type. Somehow, he'd found the positive in everything. I was the one who always took a serious approach, while Rick kept his childlike manner. If anyone ever did or said something negative to me, he'd jump right in and tell me it wasn't meant in that way. Now it was my turn to return the compliment. Except I couldn't speak. "I told you we should have gone on that trip around Europe before visiting the doctor," Rick said at last with a faint smile as he started the car and gunned the engine. As we drove through the lanes in the fading light, I just kept going over and over what the doctor had said. I could still see him sitting in front of me, a short, dark-haired man with a serious expression as his brown eyes blinked behind his half-moon glasses