Carter and Ashton on his first bike in Whiteriver, AZ, age 4.

This is Carter. What have I learned from Ashton’s death?
…that God loves His children, including me and my son, Ashton.
…that God is good, loving and kind.
…that there are MANY things that I do not understand and WILL not understand in this lifetime — and that’s OK.
…to trust God. He understands ALL things and will help me understand, also — in His own way and in His own time. I need to prepare myself to recognize when God is helping me understand.
…that it’s important to get proper rest, exercise and nutrition.
…that there are many people suffering in many ways that I am not aware of — so it’s important to be kind.
…to be humble.
…to not judge other parents or their children .
…to forgive.
…to find solace in The Bible, The Book of Mormon other scriptures and words of living prophets, the temple, fasting and prayer.
…to build my “house” upon the “Rock” of Jesus Christ. He is the ONLY thing I can count on 100% of the time!
…that there are many others in the world who have been affected by the suicide of a loved one.
…that there are so many good and kind people who love Ashton and who love us.
…that the sealing ordinances of the temple are real and powerful. The authority Christ gave to Peter anciently to “…Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth shall be bound in heaven…” also exists on the earth today. Ashton is our son throughout the eternities. What solace that sweet doctrine brings to a grieving father!
…that the Atonement of Christ swallows up my sorrows and the inequities of life.
…to be kind to myself.
…to be kind to my wife.
…of the healing power of my being in the mountains and in nature.

This is Carter. I have been absent from posting for awhile for several reasons. Faye’s posts have been amazing, touching and heart-warming. Doing some self-analysis: maybe I didn’t want to detract from her posts? Maybe I was subconsciously intimidated by how amazing they were and was afraid I wouldn’t “measure up”? Some of it frankly was time and energy: I’m a “morning person,” but, on weekdays, my mornings are spent exercising and preparing for work. My brain is “fried” in the evening and just not up to posting about Ashton. I decided to try posting Sunday mornings — when I’m fresh and unhurried — most the time.

A friend pointed out that Faye and I will touch different audiences; there are people out there who need to hear what Faye says the way she says it and there are others who need to hear what I say the way I say it. There are also some who will benefit from both of our posts.

It has been a blessing to read Faye’s posts and to reflect as I have been writing, also.

I can’t tell you what a blessing YOU have been as you have read, shared, liked and commented on our posts. Again, if you find this (and other) post helpful, please continue to do the same. There are probably others that we don’t even know or know about who might benefit from what we are learning and sharing.

God bless you!
Carter

Ashton with Uncle Nelson Richardson

I stockpile Kleenex. I have to. Yes, we use a lot. So, I keep a big stack in my storeroom. I’ve decided that is what I want to share when I visit someone who has had a death in their family. I’m a practical gift giver like my mother is. I want to give something that will be needed and used. Kleenex is perfect.

I dropped some by a friends house today. They are having their turn. No one was home, so I left the boxes at their door for them to find when they get home. As I drove off, I was reminded of the boxes of Kleenex left at our door. Tears came as I remembered pulling into our driveway, seeing them there. I remember that feeling….. it was like my heart was smiling.  Those boxes were so much more than needed Kleenex. They meant that we weren’t alone in our sorrow. They meant that someone knew what we needed. They meant that someone was trying to tell us they are sorry that our Ashton died. They meant that someone remembered Ashton and us.

I hope our friends feel that when they find their Kleenex. I hope they will feel they are not alone. I hope they will feel my sorrow for them. I hope they will feel remembered. Maybe their heart will smile too, for just a little while.

Last Sunday, I sat in a Sunday School class where they were talking about  people in the Philippines who survived a typhoon. The person telling about the experience reported that the people responded to their concerns by saying, “We’re Ok.”

I’ve noticed that many people who have gone through some real struggles in their lives respond that same way when asked how they are doing,”I’m OK”. I find myself saying that exact same thing when someone asks me how I’m doing.  I’m not super. My son died 8 months ago. In fact, he took his own life. Some days I’m more OK than others. Some days I’m really not OK.

I think the term, ‘OK’, is a good middle of the road answer when asked that common greeting, “How are you?” I feel like I’m being truthful when I answer that way. I remember once when a good friend asked, ” Are you OK?”,  early on in the grieving time.  She could tell I had been crying. I answered truthfully, “No, I’m not,” and completely broke down. I can’t answer that way to everyone, but felt I could then. It was safe with her.

One of the definitions of OK in our old dictionary says: ‘All Right’. Hmmm…. Maybe OK  isn’t the right response for me. I’m not all right. But then again…. maybe it is the right response. I WANT to be all right. I PLAN to be all right. I’m just not there yet. Maybe saying that will help me get there. You know… wishful thinking?

I think there are many, many people in the world who are not all right, but still go about their day doing things they need to do, taking care of the people they need to take care of, doing the every day necessities that HAVE to be done. Maybe that’s how we get to be all right? Forging ahead and not wallowing in our struggles? Maybe we never get to be all right. Maybe we have to wait until our earthly existence is over to be all right.

I am a believer. I believe in a God I cannot see, though I can feel Him and see his majesty all around me. I believe He wants me to be happy.  I believe His great and wonderful plan was for me to be here. I could never make it through losing Ashton without  my Heavenly Father’s love… without His Son’s Atonement… or without His Holy Spirit to comfort and guide.

I believe my Heavenly Father knows I’m not all right. I believe he puts people, events, and words in my life, to help me… to help me feel peace and to help me have the hope that I WILL be all right. Because I believe this… I know I will be OK… even though I’m not all right.