Written by Carter.

While traveling in Fiji with our children in March, somehow the topic came up of how long I felt low last April (2023). I think it took 6 weeks before I started feeling consistently “normal” again. Nearly every morning, I would say to myself, “OK…is this going to be the day when I start feeling normal again?” Not much time would pass that day before the answer would be, “Nope!”

I then told our children about how Presidents Gibson and Judd (two of our local eccliastical leaders) offered me comforting words within 36 hours of each other, and independent of one another. I know (and knew then) that God knew my pain…but sending His current chosen leaders to comfort me was very healing for me.

Faye and I visited Candace and family in Sierra Vista with Cecil and Sylvia the Sunday after that, probably for David’s birthday. On the way home, I was able to express verbally how I was feeling…and I felt like Faye, Cecil and Sylvia listened with their hearts. I felt heard.

And it was after that that I started to consistently feel better.

When I shared this experience with our children in Fiji, I said something like, “I don’t know why it took so long for me to feel better. Perhaps it’s like the dissonance in a musical piece: it feels so relieving to resolve that dissonance with the chord our brain has been waiting for.” 

I had that thought (about resolving dissonance) at that very moment in the conversation. I believe the Holy Ghost was teaching me. I thought I’d better write this down before I forgot it.

A couple of more things that the “dissonance” of last April brought me:

A. When Jordan learned I was struggling, he flew out with their three children to be with me for Ashton’s birthday. That meant a lot to me! Having his physical presence while I missed Ashton was very comforting! We had a picnic in the orchard…which led to his wanting to move back to St. David when he separated from the Air Force!

B. I didn’t want to feel that low for that long again…so I started looking on the internet for men’s grief support groups…and found one through Eric’s House. I met with my group virtually for 10 weeks. All of the eight other men in the group had also lost a loved one to suicide or substance-abuse-related deaths. We all “got” what each other was going through. Faye and I met one of the group members, Bill, and his wife, Ellen, when we visited Rockford, Illinois in October. We visited Rockford because that’s where Ashton was born. That was a healing trip for me. Then a few weeks ago, I drove to Phoenix to meet several other group members for the first time in person. They were traveling together to a retreat in Sedona and we had lunch before they left. My low April from 2023 brought some very good men into my life. I treasure them and their insights and their love and support.

Once again, thanks for listening.

Written by Carter

I enjoyed snorkeling more than I thought I would: we borrowed some equipment from Aroha Beach House Bures and snorkeled in the bay right in front of our bure (“boo-ray,” with the accent on the last syllable)! It was beautiful with all the little fish and other sea creatures of different colors and sizes. We stayed in the shallow water, with coral reef under us. The next day, we visited a pearl farm and snorkeled again…and again had a beautiful experience! One of the creatures our guide showed us was a sea cucumber. It was about 18 inches long and about 6 inches in diameter! It was also interesting to learn how pearls are made.

It was fun to play games as a family; Ashton would have had a great time — and probably would have won most of the games! The games provided a nice background for us to just visit and enjoy each other’s company.

I prayed that my parents and Ashton would be granted a “hall pass” from the Spirit World to be with us on this trip. I did not specifically feel their presence, but I felt like they were somehow aware of and maybe participated in our activities.

Before we left for Fiji, Faye was worried about our trip. She “heard” from Ashton, “There are a lot of people here who are aware of your trip. They are ready to help you, strengthen you and protect you. You’re going to be okay.”

I’m grateful for Jonathan’s, Rubi’s and Gracia’s encouraging their spouses (Candace, Jordan, and Jacob, respectively) to go on this trip with us. I’m also grateful for those who helped them with their children: Candace’s children are old enough that Jonathan needed minimal help from his mother. Rubi’s mother, Miriam, flew in from Dallas to help Rubi with their children. I think they had a nice time together. Gracia’s cousin came to help Gracia with Jacob Antonio. 

It has also been gratifying to hear from people who read Candace’s Facebook posts. My cousin, Lance, said at least twice, “Tell Candace thank you for posting all that! I felt like I was on the trip with you!”

Candace’s FB posts I think helped others heal along with us. I commented to Lance and his brother, Zack, “Ashton is our son and we are grieving his death…but there are many others who knew and loved Ashton who are grieving along with us. I think this trip helped all of us as a family and community to heal.” Ashton helped Zack with construction on someone’s guest house after his mission. Zack said he helped frame the walls, hang and tape sheetrock and with the electrical. I appreciate Zack’s efforts to help Ashton transition to being home from his mission because of his mental health. I think they grew close to one another during the time they worked together.

From Taveuni, we then traveled to Suva, the capital of Fiji. While there, we spent some time with Adi (pronounced “Andi”) and her family. Ashton had spent a lot of time in their home when they lived in Ba, another city in Fiji. She told us that Ashton called her and her husband “Mom” and “Dad” (“Nana” and “Ta” in Fijian) when he was in their home. Adi said that is not common there, but they allowed him to call them that because he was good to their kids, so she always treated him as if he was one of them. That was very touching for me! 

Adi named her now-9-year-old son (the last of her 9 children) “Ashton.” I felt Adi’s and her husband’s love for Ashton when I learned that; that touched my heart! I call their son “Fiji Ashton.” He is often asked why his name is Ashton. I’m not sure what he says, but he has now met his namesake’s family!

We had Easter dinner with Adi and her family. Her husband asked us to take a photo of our children…and placed his son, Ashton, where our son, Ashton would have been in the sibling order! That was sweet!

One of Adi’s daughters, Jessianna, is now 14, so she was 3 when Ashton was there. She came with Adi to the house we rented to meet us. I asked if Jessianna has any memories of Ashton.…she remembers a little about when he would come to their home and play with her and her siblings. I wonder if that helped her want to come with her mother to meet us…since Ashton had such a special gift of interacting with children!

When Adi told us about when she learned of Ashton’s suicide, she told us that she said, “Elder Mayberry?! Elder Mayberry?! Elder Mayberry?!” She was in stunned disbelief at the news…just as all the rest of us were. When I told one of my brothers this story, he said, “Yes, I’m still trying to wrap my head around that!” Yes, there are some things that I still do not understand and have chosen to trust God. I know He understands…and that’s good enough for me for now. Someday He will help me understand.

God’s hand was involved when we attended the Suva Temple: we attended a session mostly with people from Kiribati, another island nation where my parents served part of their mission! We met a woman from Kiribati in the patron housing area. She and her husband were being sealed to each other and their children on the current temple trip. She works in the tourism industry. I hope to visit Kiribati someday; she may be a resource for our making that trip. She and Faye are now “friends” on Facebook; Faye will contact her if/when our plans to visit Kiribati materialize.

While in the temple waiting room, I struck up a conversation with another couple from Kiribati. The man served as a young missionary in his home country at the same time my parents were in Kiribati. I don’t think their paths crossed then, but he recognized some of the missionaries in the photos Candace (thankfully) had on her phone! The woman and Faye are now also Facebook “friends.”

I listened to the Rob Gardner song this morning (4/14/24), “Sometime We’ll Understand.” What a beautiful message that song has! What beautiful music! A friend shared that a word he has struggled with is “faith.” He has learned to substitute the word “trust,” which has been helpful for him. “Trusting God” has been foundational to my healing journey.

I taught the lesson in priesthood meeting today (4/14/24), using Elder Renlund’s talk from October 2023 general conference, “Jesus Christ Is the Treasure.” I felt like I should share the experience where Elder Renlund asked to meet with Faye and me when we were serving in Lima, and he said three times, “Your boy is fine!” The last time, he said, “I promise you in the name of the Lord that your boy is fine!” Later in the lesson I was teaching, I realized why I felt like I should share that experience as I remembered that Elder Renlund emphasized the power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Ashton is “fine” not because he was a good boy/man (he was)…but because of the Atonement of Christ. The Atonement of Christ makes it possible for me to trust God!

Thanks for your love and support!

Written by Carter

Ashton died in 2014. Faye and I have been planning to visit Fiji since at least 2016, when we met with one of our Church leaders as we were grieving and seeking some comfort and encouragement. In that conversation, he said, “Sometimes we need to move backward a step to help us move forward.” That is, he encouraged us to visit Fiji to help us heal. He knew about our upcoming mission to Peru. He said, “Could you triangulate your trip and visit Fiji on the way to (or from) Peru?” We checked into it, but it just didn’t work out. When we went to New Zealand in 2019 for our next mission, we hoped to visit Fiji on the way home…but then the COVID-19 pandemic broke out…and a side trip to Fiji was out of the question. As I mentioned in my previous post, April 2023 was extremely difficult for me. After that, I actively searched for ways to help me heal from my grief. Faye and I felt like 2024 was a good time to visit Fiji…with our three living children: Candace, Jordan and Jacob. They are also grieving their brother’s death. God‘s hand was in the timing of this trip; He knew we all needed to go to Fiji together…and made it possible for us to have the experiences we all had together!

The first place we visited in Fiji was the island of Taveuni, where Ashton served for about 6 months. When we attended meetings in the Somosomo Branch, one of the men there said, “I remember when Elder Mayberry opened up the Vuna Branch [about a 90-minute drive over a dirt road from Somosomo].” It was gratifying to hear that Ashton’s service there was remembered.

In that same conversation, we mentioned that Ashton had passed away. A woman asked, “How did he die? Was he sick?” One of us responded, “He died from suicide.” Her response: “Well, that happens sometimes.” I cannot think of a better response!

After the meeting, I was talking with one of the men in the congregation, Marika Lesuma. I mentioned that my parents served in Fiji 35 years ago. He immediately and excitedly said, “‘Mayberry’…did your dad have big hands and rope like a cowboy?!” “Yep, that was him!” Brother Lesuma was a young missionary at the same time as my parents! Apparently, when they had a missionary activity, Dad came with his cowboy hat and boots and rope. He told the young missionaries to run and he roped them! When I was a kid, Dad would say, “Run and beller like a calf!” I think I only ran once because he was really good at roping…and he quickly caught me…and the rope pulling tight around my body as I ran was not a fun experience!

Brother Lesuma invited us to Family Home Evening (FHE) at his home the next evening (Monday). On Monday afternoon, we weren’t sure if we should eat or not before going to their house. I called him and he was on his boat fishing for mackerel to feed us that evening! It was touching that he was doing that for us! The fresh mackerel that evening was delicious!

There are no street addresses in Taveuni…so we had to ask people how to get to Lesuma’s house and to a couple’s house who is from the US (the Cziep’s). This couple lives on Taveuni for 6 months out of the year to scuba dive and to get out of Idaho winters. We finally found them both! Brother Lesuma sent the missionaries to find us and lead us back to his house; the full-time missionaries were also there for FHE and dinner…and they shared an inspired message from the gospel (good news) of Jesus Christ that was pertinent to our situation.

When Ashton and his companion opened the village of Vuna to missionary work, they taught and baptized a couple from the next village over (Navakawau). Their names are Muri and Mele. They walked 2-3 hours one-way with two children to meetings each week for church services! They did this for two years before a branch was opened in Navakawau! Their humility and dedication are inspiring!

On Wednesday, we visited Muri and Mele and gave them a photo of their baptism, with Ashton in the photo. When Muri saw it, he put his head down, placed his thumb and index finger on each side of his nose to bury his head as he wept. Jordan was sitting next to him. He put his hand on Muri’s shoulder and wept with him. Many tears were shed while we were together…tears of gratitude for the covenants that brought us together…and tears of sadness from missing Ashton.

When we returned home, I was looking at the photos Candace posted on Facebook. We took a photo in Muri and Mele’s home. I didn’t notice at the time of the photo, but Muri was holding his phone with a photo on the screen. Faye asked Mele who was in that photo…it was Ashton and his companion! It was tender to see the love they had for the missionaries who introduced them to the Restored Church of Jesus Christ!

(As a side note, I don’t think Muri and Mele knew that Ashton had died…until their branch president (Fisher; see below) told them the day before we visited them.)

It was humbling to be invited into Muri and Mele’s home. The walls and roof were made of tin. They had a dirt floor, covered with a layer of clean linoleum. We all sat on the floor. I felt like I was in a holy place. Muri wore a T-shirt that said, “I Love My Church.” Somehow, I asked if they had been to the temple. He enthusiastically and matter-of factly said, “Yes! About a year after our baptism.” One year is the minimum time a new member must wait before entering the temple to be sealed as a family. Muri is now a counselor in the branch presidency. Now there is a family who “gets” the importance of entering and staying on the covenant path!

As we were visiting with Muri and Mele, Muri moved to the window to his home (so he’d have better access to the cell tower) and started making phone calls. We learned that he was trying to find a lobster to prepare for us to eat! When I realized that, I said, “Brother Muri, thanks so much for wanting to feed us…but Jacob and I are allergic to lobster…and we need to return to our hotel before it gets too late.” I was very touched with his hospitality and eagerness to serve us!

Before we left Muri’s and Mele’s “holy home,” I asked if we could pray together. We stood outside their home and he offered a beautiful prayer. I don’t remember what he said, but we cried together again.

Before we left the US for Fiji, I told Faye and our children that I wanted to take a photo near the same place where the photo of Ashton was taken that is on his headstone. President Fisher (of the Vuna Branch) told us where it was (across the road from the school in Vuna). It felt healing to take a photo in that place, to stand near where I knew Ashton had stood as a missionary. We also took photos of a nearby place where Ashton and the other missionaries performed baptisms; this was where Muri and Mele were baptized.

Sam Abplanalp (one of Ashton’s companions in Taveuni) told us how to find a place in Somosomo where Ashton liked to eat lunch every day: the building just south of the church meetinghouse. It doesn’t look the way Sam described it…but we still bought some food from some vendors in front of that building…in Ashton’s honor.

It must be a rite of initiation to teach a new missionary (as a prank) that, when they are full, they should say (in Fijian), “I am very pregnant!”…and then everyone laughs. When Ashton trained a new missionary in Vuna, that’s what he did…and that story is still famous there…I think a lot of that is because Ashton and his companion were the ones who opened Vuna to missionary work…to be continued.

Note: I was going to put some links in and add some other tweaks…but I decided to post this in its somewhat-raw format. Thanks for your love and support.

Written by Carter

Introduction: I wrote this on 16 April 2023…over a year ago. I’m posting it now in preparation for an upcoming post about something that happened in March 2024: we traveled to Fiji with our living children! The lows of April 2023 helped motivate me to plan that trip to Fiji! Here goes…

I love Easter. I love remembering the life, mission, teachings, example, ministry, atonement and resurrection of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. I said to Faye, “The Living Christ is music to my ears and to my heart.” These truths are all such beautiful, rich, peace-giving and hope-giving concepts. I believe them with all my heart.

But, for the past nine years, Easter is also hard for me. Several years ago, one of our Church leaders gave a sermon entitled, “Sunday Will Come.” It refers to the abject grief and despair that Jesus’ disciples felt when He was crucified on that Friday. Only later did they understand what Jesus was trying to teach them: that it was necessary for Him to die so that He could overcome death and sin. After three days, He rose again with a resurrected body of flesh and bones. He chose to retain the marks of the nails in His hands and feet and the spear laceration in His side. Sunday did come. Even among our darkest hours, days, weeks, months, and years of our lives, the metaphorical “Sunday” will come. Christ has overcome the world. Through Him, we can, too.

But Easter is also hard for me. It reminds me that I am separated from Ashton, who has preceded me in death. He was supposed to help bury me. It’s not the natural sequence for a father to bury his son. Even nine years later — Easter is still hard. I am grateful to celebrate Easter, but I told Faye that I’m also grateful that “Monday will come” (the day after Easter). I can leave behind for another year the stark reminder that I am separated from one of my children…until the end of my mortal life. I guess that is the “paradox of hope”: in order to have something to look forward to, one must have present circumstances that are less-than-ideal.

I thought of grief as it might be compared with the onset of spring. Some spring days are cold or windy or rainy…or any combination of miserable elements that make me think that winter isn’t done with me yet. Then there will be a glorious day when the sun is shining, the sky is clear and the breezes are gentle. What makes those days so beautiful? I think part of it is the contrast between that day and the previous, miserable ones. I also remind myself to enjoy that beautiful day because I know that, in a few weeks, it will be miserably hot in southern Arizona.

I recently saw a patient whose parent died from suicide. I offered my condolences and told them about the suicide loss survivor support group in Tucson and about the Long-Term Suicide Survivors Summit…and how that helped us. This patient is Christian and we talked about Easter and the hope it brings. As I was driving home at the end of the day, I realized that I was really tired. After dinner, I read for awhile, then went to bed early. I was surprised at how tired I was; I didn’t feel “down” when I was talking to the patient…but it must have taken more out of me than I realized. I discussed this experience with Faye and verbalized the option that I could have chosen to not say anything to this patient about their parent’s suicide. But did God allow our paths to cross so I could say something that day? Few doctors would understand better than me what this patient might be feeling. As hard as it was, I’m glad I said something. I hope it was useful. I don’t know if this will get easier for me with time and repetition…but I hope to continue to “lean into” these opportunities to help others who are suffering.

I thought about posting this last Sunday (on Easter)…but it was too much, too heavy right then. I had to let these ideas and feelings sit for a week so I could have the strength to express them. I hope they are helpful for someone out there. It has been helpful for me to write them.

Our daughter (Candace) is posting on Facebook about our family’s trip to Fiji to visit the places Ashton served during his mission! Besides Candace, the trip includes our living sons, Jordan and Jacob.
https://www.facebook.com/jondace

When we were in Rockford, I listened to a woman talk about her mother who had just passed away. She said that both of her parents are now in Heaven…taking advantage of all that Heaven has to offer.

Sometimes I feel Ashton’s absence so deeply. Now is one of those times.

But I love the thought of Ashton taking advantage of all that Heaven has to offer. 

What ARE the offerings of Heaven? They have to be so sweet, peaceful and love filled. 

Light filled.

It has to be unlike anything I could ever describe with my mortal frame of reference.

But… I’ve been thinking… what does Heaven have to offer me as an earthling?

How can I take advantage of all that Heaven has to offer even though I’m not a resident?

As I think about it…here is what I know. This is what Heaven has offered me so far.

Sometimes Heaven feels so close. I can‘t describe how I know… I just know when I feel it. I only feel it when I’m still. When my mind is quiet.

Sometimes at night right before I go to sleep when I’m finishing the prayer I started on my knees. Sometimes in the morning, right when I wake and it’s quiet, as I’m asking for strength for this day. Sometimes in the temple where earth and heaven can be so intertwined. 

Then sometimes when Ashton is close…when he brings his peace he’s so good at sharing. 

It’s a tangible feeling…that fills every fiber of my being… a beautiful warm love that’s different from any other feeling I’ve felt on earth. 

It doesn’t always come when I ask. But when it does… I feel known, heard, and so very strengthened.

Enveloped in LOVE & LIGHT…♥️🌟

Right now… that’s what Heaven offers me as I am earthbound.

I treasure each warm and tender offering.

Written November 14, 2023, by Faye.

**I want to acknowledge this caricature of Ashton as a Fijian missionary. It was painted by a friend of our daughter-in-law, Rubi, in 2015. Thank you Luis. You don’t even know us, but we appreciate this gift so much.♥️

Rockford, Illinois 

That’s where Ashton was born. 

Carter was in his first year of residency there beginning in the Fall of 1991. We had two little children, Candace, age 6 and Jordan, age 4. We wanted to have another child but I had not been well. During our time there, I felt that God gave me a window of wellness. Ashton was born on April 30, 1992 at Saint Anthony’s hospital. The pregnancy was a little crazy. I was in the hospital at the beginning for a few days with dehydration. Jordan was my companion and little buddy during that time while I was sick. He would sit on the arm of the recliner with me. We would sing and read and watch television together at home while Candace attended 1st grade at Carlson Elementary down the street. 

I craved Taco Bell bean burritos… No sauce and no onion.  I ate a lot of grapefruit, sometimes six in one day.  They were 12 for a dollar at Aldi. 

I am flying out today, Friday, to meet Carter, who has been at a conference all week in Chicago. We will drive up to Rockford to spend the weekend. It’s the first time we’ve been back since moving away. Ashton was 3 months old when we left Rockford. The 10 year angelversary of Ashton’s death is coming up in January and it is looming. 

Thus, the writing has started up again, for me. It’s a big need. 

Heading up to Rockford just seems appropriate right now, especially since Carter is already there, close. We plan to drive by the home where we lived during that year…go by the hospital where he was born… attend church with the people who celebrated with us when Ashton was born. And just be in that beautiful place where Ashton began his life with us.

I am looking forward to it. Looking forward to remembering the anticipated time of another sweet child, I thought I could never have. 

I’m listening to a book called “Sacred Struggle” by Melissa Wei–Tsing Inouye where she says “those who follow Christ will become acquainted with grief.”

I am acquainted. 

But I am not alone in that acquaintance. 

Christ knows.

Heaven is close at times.

I share it with the most beautiful people on this earth….Carter and Candace and Jordan and Jacob.

We forge ahead with faith.

Written October 25, 2023 by Faye

PS – You know how sometimes you have to go back to move forward? This trip was that for us. A trip we didn’t know we needed to make.

My feet have connected with Sybil Road again…the quintessential walking spot in my part of Saint David.

It’s a big deal.

For me.

I’ve been wanting to do that for the 2 years since we’ve been home. And for I don’t know how many years before that. Well…I do know how many years. Almost 10.

The first time, I didn’t walk very far down… but I walked… and felt the significance of being out there again. My friend/neighbor Raquel was with me. It’s partly her fault I was there. I saw on Facebook that she had started walking and I kept getting the nudge to ask her if I could walk with her. The nudge would not leave me…so I messaged her, “I saw that you have been walking. Do you need a walking partner?” 

SHE SAID YES! 😃

We haven’t been able to walk together since that first time. I think she was the blessing I needed to just get out there. Thanks Raquel! 😘

Sibyl Road is amazing when you’re walking on it!

Driving on the road, in my usual hurried state, I don’t notice all the connections I have with God. My series of walks have helped me notice those little beauties of this part of the earth I live on. Slowing down on these walks, helps me notice.

THE SHADE… I drink it in on those late summer mornings.  

I walk by a friend’s home where I know there is struggle and illness… and I whisper a silent prayer for them.

I run into friends I haven’t chatted with in a while. It feels good to connect.

This morning the irrigation ditch was running. I could hear the trickling water sounds a few feet away by the road.

I pass pecan orchards on each walk that have been passed down from father to son…connecting the generations of my husband’s family.

Inspiration for other writings come. I whip out my phone and dictate.

It’s SO NICE to be outside again. Mentally and physically… it feels so good!

It’s a beauty I have missed and I love how it connects me to my Creator.

Bringing more peace and unexpected patience as I wait on this earth for promised connections with Ashton.

Written by Faye

Everything is going to be Ok.

I heard that phrase 5 different times in a series of church meetings I attended recently.

I read…You’re going to be Ok…last week in an email from my nephew who is starting his mission, serving in Central America.

And it’s something I tell others when I feel they need to hear it.

You’re going to be Ok.

I used to “hear” those words from Ashton after he left us.

When I was desperately trying to survive.

“Mom, you’re going to be Ok.”

And I was… and I am.

Whenever I hear it or say it now, I call it, “Quoting Ashton.”

Those words… calm me.

They soothe my heart in doubting times.

Those simple words bring hope.

To quote something I wrote in March of 2017 before leaving for Peru: “He (Ashton) can strengthen when a struggle comes along and I will hear the familiar voice in my mind, ”Mom, you’re going to be OK.” He can still be with us, no matter where we are and what we are doing. Still my son, but now my faithful friend and quiet, calming companion.”

Because of Jesus Christ and trusting in his promises…

I KNOW that I and Ashton and everyone and everything will be Ok. 

Written October 1, 2023 by Faye

Picture: Ashton, age 8 or 9, with Carter and older brother Jordan

My name is Faye. My son Ashton died by suicide on January 28th, 2014. He was 21 years old.

That is what we say at the Suicide Loss Survivors Support Group in Tucson. It’s been 2 years since I’ve been there. The first time I needed to say that, I couldn’t. Carter said it for us. I realized later that I need to say it too, for myself.

It’s a very hard but healing thing to say.

They went to Zoom during the pandemic while we were in New Zealand. One blessing of the pandemic. And a blessing for us to still attend while we were gone.

Every suicide affects me.

When it’s someone I know… it really affects me.

When it’s 3 in 2 months of families that I know and care for… it’s been heavy.

Heavier than I’ve felt in years.

So heavy…it doesn’t leave.

That’s why I’m back speaking those words. With people who hear me. With those who understand the suicide part. With others of this earth who love a beautiful soul like Ashton.

It was good to be there… feeling heard and seen in my grief.

Thanks be to God for hearing and seeing me. I know He knows me. I know Heaven is aware of my struggle.