Ashton with siblings and Carter at the Tucson airport when he returned from his mission.

Yes, I’ve been angry. I tried not to be. I didn’t want to be. I’m not an angry person. I’m not. But, I have to admit… I have been angry. I was deep, down depressed for about a week before a sweet friend helped me realize what was going on.

I was angry at Ashton. I was angry that he left us. I felt guilty that I was angry. I tried to suppress it. How ridiculous to be angry at him. He was ill. He was not accountable. But…I can’t deny it…I was angry at him.

I’ve learned that suppressing anger is toxic. My body needed to feel that anger and I wouldn’t let it.  I wrote the following on October 24, 2014. I wasn’t going to post it. I didn’t want anyone to see my anger. I write a lot of things I don’t post. I feel like I should now. I was surprised at myself, that I got so angry.

“Another hard day.  What’s going on? Usually when I write, I feel better, but I’m not today. I’ve been so sad…thinking of how bad Ashton must have felt to do that. He couldn’t even tell us. I should have known.  He should have told us. I’m his mom… he should have told me. Families tell each other when things are hard!  ASH!!!  All you had to do was tell me or dad or Jordan or SOMEONE! How hard can it be????”

“I MISS YOU SO MUCH!!! You are a part of our family! You should be here with us! Not somewhere where I can’t ever see you or hear you or touch you ever again in this life!!!!!  How can I ever live without you here???? How will our family ever go on without you here? We are trying… we are… but it is really HARD!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Are you sad too Ash? Do you miss us like we miss you? Is it hard for you to see us so sad? Are you having a hard time being away from us? Is someone there to comfort you? Do you have family and friends there helping you like we have here? Ohhh….I hope so….”

I’ve learned that anger can be a normal part of grieving for some people. I didn’t think it would be for me…. but it has been.

“Anger targeting the deceased may frighten you. It shouldn’t. It is very natural and extremely common. Regardless of the circumstances or the reasons for his emotional despair, the deceased — in solitude, without consulting you — made a choice. And now you get to live with the consequences. That’s enough to make anyone angry. Denying the anger won’t work. You’ll just prolong it. It is absolutely essential to meet the twin emotions of anger and guilt head-on, to do battle with them until they’re exhausted, and then you can move on.”      ~    Living After Suicide by Sue Holtkamp, Ph.D.

Well… I’ve gone to battle with my anger. I own it and I hope it is exhausted.

How could I ever do this alone? With good people around me to help me heal and teach me, and with my Heavenly Father cheering me on…. I will make it.

Written by Faye

Sadie Ashton Evans ~ 7 months old

Yesterday, Faye and I attended the Phoenix Temple Open House — for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We drove in “the beast” — nickname for the big van owned by Jonathan and Candace Evans (our son-in-law and daughter). Rubi and Jordan (daughter-in-law and son) joined us in Tucson. All five of the Evans’ children were in the van, also. Sweet, chunky, kissable, 7 month-old Sadie did not enjoy being in her car seat for that LONG trip. She is becoming increasingly mobile and I think didn’t like being strapped down for that long! The other kids did pretty well, despite the occasional, “He’s bugging me!” type of inevitable irritations that come from kids being on a long trip.

Ashton Mayberry ~ Age 7

As I read through the comments on Facebook this morning, I was touched by how many people are reading and commenting on our posts that we don’t even know: 9223 people were “reached” this last week. Wow! The words of the song, “Rhinestone Cowboy” spontaneously came to my mind, “…getting cards and letters from people I don’t even know!” (but no offers coming over the phone :)) I confess that this is new for me — with so many people who know our story — but there appears to be a need for what we are writing. Thank you in advance for reading, liking, commenting and sharing! You may not know, either, who might be touched by your efforts to do so.

Just Hug Me

By Candace (Mayberry) Evans

You see me in person
Going about my day.
Life goes on even after tragedy.
“How are you doing?”
You ask, really wanting to know.
I feel the heaviness always;
Don’t want to burden anyone.
“I’m doing okay.”
I really am. But I’m not, too.
You sense my unseen sorrow.
“Mourn with those that mourn:”***
You want to do this for me.
Words seem inadequate
And they are.

So just hug me,
No words necessary.
“Can I hug you?”
If you must speak aloud.
Linger in the embrace,
I feel you say
“I’m sorry. I care.”
Unspoken words drive deep.
Hug the words of your heart to me,
Absorb a piece of my sorrow.
My return embrace,
Shoulders relaxing,
A little grief freed, says,
“You care…you remember. Thank you.”

***Mosiah 18:9, The Book of Mormon Another Testament of Jesus Christ

Jordan, Ashton & Jacob Mayberry

Candace and Ashton Mayberry ~ March 2010

“Tears don’t hurt like the ache does.”

~Anne Shirley from the movie “Anne of Green Gables”
By Candace (Mayberry) Evans, Ashton’s sister

Anne Shirley is just what I needed today to feel at peace about the lack of tears, overall, I have had to go along with my often aching heart over my brother, Ashton’s, passing. I was wanting the tears because I felt bad that they weren’t coming…I thought they should be: My brother is gone! I miss him! I’m sad he left this earth the way he did! That deserves tears, no?!

I can usually cry when I need to, no problem (just ask my husband! ☺️). I *wanted* them to come. I literally felt emotionally constipated (only way I can think to describe it, sorry!). But still no tears.

So today I put on one of my all-time favorite movies, “Anne of Green Gables,” which is based on the written work of the same name by Lucy Maud Montgomery.  I honestly put it on to see if it would help me get some tears to come. Weird tactic? Maybe. ☺️ But I was getting desperate for some healing tears!

The movie got to the part towards the end where Anne’s beloved adopted father, Matthew, dies. It then shows her adopted mother, Marilla, awaken at night to the sound of Anne crying in her bedroom. Marilla goes to Anne to give her comfort and says, to paraphrase, that “It isn’t right to cry so…God knows best.” Anne replies, “Tears don’t hurt like the ache does.”

In the book text of “Anne of Green Gables,” also after Matthew dies, it reads: “Anne hoped that tears would come in solitude. It seemed to her a terrible thing that she could not shed a tear for Matthew, whom she had loved so much and who had been so kind to her…But no tears came at first, even when she knelt by her window in the darkness and prayed, looking up to the stars beyond the hills–no tears, only the same horrible dull ache of misery that kept on aching…”

Anne Shirley understands. OH how the ache hurts more than the tears! But she finally got her tears to ease the ache…and today…so did I.

Red & Blue game with Jordan & Rubi ~ Oct. 2014

We did it! We made it to the Red & Blue game! Ash would have loved it. He would have loved to be there, sitting next to his dad and brother, cheering and talking to them about the stats and players. It was bitter sweet for me. I’m not really a crowds person. I’d rather watch the game at home on television. But, I went in honor of Ashton. I wanted to go for him.  I saw where we sat when Ashton was with us last year, in the top section on the front row, just to the left of the Sean Elliot shirt on the wall. I didn’t think it would be a big deal to see that, but it was a big deal. I kept thinking about it and looking up there. I finally stood up and took a picture of the area. I guess I needed to do that. My brain wasn’t obsessed with that spot anymore after I took the picture.

On the way home I did a lot of thinking. Is basketball important in heaven? Does Ashton even care about basketball any more? I also had a good cry on the way home. I don’t do that as much as I used to, but sometimes I need to. I don’t really think too deeply about Ashton being gone. I try not too. But there are times when I need to let myself think about him. I HAVE to think about him sometimes. This boy that I gave birth to… this boy who I was responsible for…. the boy I worried so much about… the big, gentle guy who  loves Baconators from Wendy’s, Willcox apples and fresh raspberries. He’s gone. He will not be with us anymore for the rest of my life. Sometimes that’s hard to bear. Sometimes it’s amazingly hard for my mind to comprehend. Sometimes it’s just plain painful…. and I have to let myself feel that pain.

Carter and I both came home from the game ready to write. We both are typing and crying right now getting our grief out and letting our words absorb that grief. I’m grateful we have this outlet. ….I already feel  better…. more calm.

Thank you Heavenly Father for Ashton. Thank you for letting us have him for almost 22 years. Please take good care of him. I know I can count on you. You knew and loved him before I did. He’s your son too.

Written by Faye

UofA Red & Blue game with Jordan & Rubi Oct. 2014

When King David’s son, Absalom, was killed, his mourning is recorded in 2 Samuel 18:33: “And the king was much moved, and went up to the chamber over the gate, and wept: and as he went, thus he said, O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! would God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son!”

Ashton Mayberry ~ Missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints ~ Fiji Suva Mission.

Ashton died at about 11:00 am on Tuesday, January 28, 2014. That afternoon we were at my parents home discussing the funeral. Who would speak? What music would there be? Who would be the pall bearers? We were still in shock.  I was able to sit and talk and plan. It had to be done. We had to do it.

I remember asking my mother, “If I’m going to be grieving, I want to grieve correctly. How do I do that?” I remember her looking at me and saying, “Well, honey….. ” and I don’t remember the rest. I just knew I wanted to grieve the right way. I like to do things right. If there are rules in a certain situation, I want to follow them. I wanted to know what the rules were for grieving. I wanted a checklist to check off.

I chuckle now as think back on that. I was serious. Rules for grieving?

I’ve read a lot about grieving in the past 8 months trying to find those rules. There are none. No rules. There are healthy ways to grieve and unhealthy ways. Of course… I am trying my best to go in the healthy direction. That’s just how I work.

In my favorite little five minute read about grief, it says:

“We need to understand grief is a normal, natural reaction to the loss of someone or something. Each of us is going to handle our grief in our own way, just like we handle any other emotion.

Some of us will show our grief. We’ll cry, look sad and withdraw from those around us. Some of us will hide our grief. We’ll cry in private and wear an “I’m doing fine” face in public.

Still others of us pretend, even to ourselves that we’re OK, not hurting. We’re the ones who keep very busy. We run because if we slow down, we’ll hurt.

What we must remember is, male or female, cry or not cry, we will feel and experience grief. When we accept the grief, the hurt within us, we can begin to move forward in a healthy manner. How we express grief is not an issue, that we allow ourselves to feel the grief is very important.”               My Friend, I Care – The Grief Experience, Barbara Karnes RN

I have been all of these things. I still do some of these things and more. There’s the numbness…. been there. There were times when people would come up to me to tell me how sorry they were. They would cry and I wouldn’t. I loved and was grateful that they said something to me, but I wasn’t feeling any sadness at all. I would think, “Hey, I’m doing great. I can handle this.” Nope. I was just numb. Normally numb. The sadness came back.

There were times when I would hide away in my home, wanting to stay there forever. It didn’t last for long. We needed bananas. I had appointments. My children and  grandchildren needed me. My church meetings were calling me. I needed to be there. My church family needed to see me there. So, I would go. Turns out…the times when I was the most reluctant to go out, someone would be there who needed to talk to me. Someone who was also hurting and knew I would understand. More than once, I have heard, “I was hoping I would see you.” I would come home refreshed and reminded that there are no coincidences and The Lord is in charge. I don’t have a counseling degree, but somehow seem to be involved in it these days.  Does it come with the territory I’m in now? It’s good to help and listen. I’m comfortable in that mode.

Rules for grieving? I’ve discovered we all have our own. No checklist. We just need to let the grief come, and let ourselves feel it…. in our own way… in our own time.

Written by Faye

Ashton ~ 6 months old

I sat by a little bruiser while waiting for an appointment today. A little guy about 6 months old, strapped to his mom in a baby carrier. Square head, blondie, big blue eyes, big features, all boy. Cute as heck!

Ashton was born in Rockford, Illinois when Carter was at the end of his first year of medical residency there. He was my biggest baby, weighing 9 pounds, 8 ounces. We moved to Aurora, Colorado when Ashton was 2 months old. Candace and Jordan started school and it was just Ash and I at home. We had a great time together. He was a good napper and my little shopping buddy. Once we were in line to check out at the grocery store. There were three firemen behind us. One of them commented to me, “He’s a little bruiser!” Picture the little guy I described earlier and that’s  baby Ashton. He was all boy, too. Nothing petite about him. He would melt into you when you held him. He quickly acquired the name Squish. We’re a nickname family and that name evolved over time into many other Squish-like names. He was a gentle little guy who woke up happy from his naps. We all liked to go in and see him do his happy dance in his bed.

These memories are sweet to me. I’m grateful for those baby years I had with him.

It’s interesting that he was called a little bruiser then. He grew up to be one of the most gentle souls I know. He liked everyone to be happy and comfortable. He especially liked to make me happy. He was so kind and helpful to me. It was clear on the day he died that he was trying to make it as easy for me as possible. I’m the one that found him. Even in the unimaginable turmoil going on in his mind, he was aware of me and my comfort. He might have been called a little bruiser once, but there was nothing about his character that merited that name. I would call him a little… no… BIG blessing.

Written by Faye