Sister…. that word brings a smile to my heart. My sisters are my best friends. They each bless me in their own, unique way. Ashton is blessed with one sweet sister friend… Candace.  She is the oldest child in our family and the jelly on our family’s sandwich. She was 7 1/2 years old when Ashton was born on April 30, 1992. She was just finishing 1st grade where we lived in Rockford, Illinois. Candace says she remembers being at school when she found out her mom was in labor with Ashton and was SO excited to go meet him after school! Ashton had to stay in the hospital for a little extra time to be treated for jaundice but Candace remembers coming home from school to the surprise of her new baby brother finally being home from the hospital! Candace remembers Ashton having fussy periods when he was a newborn and she liked trying to soothe him when her mom needed help. One of the ways Candace would get him to stop crying was by holding him over her arm with his belly facing down and swinging him back and forth, swiftly. Candace says she’s not sure how “safe” that movement was for a 7 year old to do…she just knew it made Ashton stop crying momentarily! 🙂 Candace liked to “fly” Ashton over to mom when it was time to be nursed and would say, “Super Baby! Flying over to the Mommy Milky Way Airport!” 🙂

Jordan, newborn Ashton & Candace on Ashton’s blessing day in Rockford, Illinois

When Ashton was an older infant Candace liked to take him to the piano to “pay petty pano”, as she pronounced it, and would say it to him in a high baby talk voice that went higher on the last syllable of the phrase. Ashton did take piano lessons later in his life and his sister Candace was one of his piano teachers. Candace says that teaching Ashton piano didn’t last for very long but she can’t remember exactly why. Perhaps because she got pretty busy during high school. Candace had the sweet experience of accompanying Ashton when he sang a solo during his baptism. He sang with such a sweet, clear voice, with such faith.

Ashton taking piano lessons from his sister, Candace. (Notice the soccer shin guards!)

Candace and Ashton shared a room for awhile when Candace was about 10, Ashton 3. Candace liked to put him to bed at night which was a big help to me. She and Ashton would always say before she left the room, “See ya later Alligator/After while crocodile/Sleep tight/Don’t let the bed bugs bite!” 🙂  During this time she taught him how to tie his shoes.

Candace and Ashton with one of the most beautiful sunsets we have ever witnessed when we lived in the White Mountains of Arizona.

Candace with Dad and brothers at her 8th grade graduation. Ashton… an adoring fan!

Candace going to a Halloween party, with little photo bomber Ashton!

Candace, in high school, with little brothers Jacob and Ashton, before selfies were popular.

Ashton visiting Candace and family in Indiana ~ December 2010

Candace and Ashton ~ March 2010

After his mission, there were 3 safe places where Ashton felt comfortable…  our home, Grandma and Grandpa Richardson’s house and Candace and Jonathan’s home. Wednesday was his day to go visit Candace in Sierra Vista. He would drive over there around noon, watch Dr. Who and play with the kids, who ADORED him, while Candace would get some rest, since she was sick during her last pregnancy. He would sometimes help her clean her floors, which she appreciated IMMENSELY! Ashton looked forward to Wednesdays.

Ashton was so good about playing games with Candace’s kids! He visited them in Indiana twice and Candace and her family LOVED having him each time!

Candace says, “I can’t remember a time when I was ever mad at Ashton when we were growing up. I know that it’s very common to get angry with little brothers but I honestly cannot recall a time when I was. Okay, so actually there was a time when I got a little annoyed with something Ashton did, but I think it was mostly because he did something that made me feel guilty. Ashton was about 7 or 8 years old, so that would have made me about 14 or 15 years old. I must have been having a moody teenager kind of day, being a turd to my mom or something, so when Ashton sweetly approached my mom and asked, “Mom, can I organize the linen closet?” it just BUGGED me (and pricked my soul with guilt for not being that sweet!) that he was being so sweet and wanted to willingly organize the linen closet!! But yeah…that’s just about the only time I can recall being annoyed with Ashton. :)”

By writing this post… I want to honor Candace for the help and strength she has been to us since Ashton’s death. She was pregnant with her 5th child when Ashton died and struggled with some health issues during her pregnancy. She wrote Ashton’s obituary for us when we weren’t able to do it. That was hard for her. She delivered her sweet baby girl, Sadie Ashton, 2 months after her brother Ashton died. She still struggles with grief and new mom emotions. In my readings about grief I’ve read that siblings often get overlooked when a child dies. The emphasis is mostly on the parents. I’m grateful for those who have reached out to Candace to help and strengthen her, too. She has been one that I can talk to about Ashton things. When I’m with her, it’s easy to open up. I feel comfortable with her…. my daughter…. my friend.

Mother & Daughter ~ August 2013

Carter and I  just finished spending a weekend with Candace and Jonathan’s children so they could attend a funeral out of state. I love their sweet children. I love their unique personalities. I hope we get to do that again. I had a lot of fun! My mommy stamina is not what it used to be. I guess it’s called Grandma stamina? I applaud her even more. Being a mother of five is not easy.

I want to close this post with something Candace has written recently:

“I finally finished the book, ‪Allegiant‬, the last book in the trilogy ‪Divergent‬. Ashton & I were reading this at the same time, we both started reading it shortly before he passed away, I was a little ahead of him. He said he thought the series had too much lovey stuff, which I didn’t mind ☺, but did have enough action to keep him interested. 😊 We had a good time reading the same books. I actually give his 10 year old little self ALL the credit for introducing Harry Potter to me, his big 17 year old sister. 😊 Allegiant was laying on the floor by his favorite reading spot in my parent’s living room the day he died. The book stayed right where he left it, by the couch, until my mom realized it was due at the library. I couldn’t read it for awhile, then when I tried to do it…I couldn’t get very far. ‪‎Audible‬ (an audio book app) and a long car drive by myself is finally what got me through it. 😊 I had heard mixed reviews on it’s ending. I won’t give the ending away for anyone but I will say that it actually resonated with me very much. The last line says, ‘We can be mended. We mend each other.’ I believe this.”

Yes, Candace, we can mend each other. Thank you for helping our family in the mending process. You are the sweetness and light our family sandwich needs. I love you!

Written by Faye, with lots of help from Candace.

Carter at the head of Ashton’s casket ~  St. David cemetery with Bishop Hancock and numerous family members

To be clear on this post (especially): my primary intended audience is…me. I’m trying to remind myself of things that I know to be true. If some of you might benefit from these thoughts, all the better. As with all posts, if this is not useful, please set it aside; perhaps there are other posts that you might find helpful.

Some of you may be familiar with the Pioneers from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormons) who crossed the Great Plains of what would become part of the United States on foot, horseback, wagons and handcarts between 1847-1869. About 70,000 men, women and children made this 1000-mile trek before the First Transcontinental Railroad was completed in 1869. Some of these people were very poor, but very much wanted to join others who shared their religious conviction in Utah and surrounding states. To save expense and thus allow as many as possible make that journey, handcarts were used to carry the very bare essentials for a family (see photo below). Two ill-fated handcart companies (groups) made the journey in 1856: the Willie and Martin handcart companies. They left late in the season and were caught by severe winter storms in the high plains of Wyoming. A miraculous and monumental rescue effort was sent from Salt Lake City. Nevertheless, many of those in the handcart companies died of exposure, exhaustion and starvation. Many of those who survived were left with permanent effects from frostbite.

Many years later, there was a discussion in a Sunday School class that included criticism of the Church leaders for allowing those handcart companies to leave so late in the season. An older class member stood and, with emotion, said that he was a member of the Martin Handcart Company. He also said the following:

“We suffered beyond anything you can imagine and many died of exposure and starvation, but did you ever hear a survivor of that company utter a word of criticism? …

“I have pulled my handcart when I was so weak and weary from illness and lack of food that I could hardly put one foot ahead of the other. I have looked ahead and seen a patch of sand or a hill slope and I have said, ‘I can go only that far and there I must give up, for I cannot pull the load through it.’”

He continues: “I have gone on to that sand and when I reached it, the cart began pushing me. I have looked back many times to see who was pushing my cart, but my eyes saw no one. I knew then that the angels of God were there.

“Was I sorry that I chose to come by handcart? No. Neither then nor any minute of my life since. The price we paid to become acquainted with God was a privilege to pay, and I am thankful that I was privileged to come in the Martin Handcart Company.” (“Refined in Our Trials”)

My point is NOT “Look how strong WE are.” My point is “Look how GOOD God is!” I have been reminded that God is in charge. He loves me. He has sent help to strengthen me.

This life is MEANT to be hard. This life is a test. The trials I experience can serve to humble me — if I let them — so I turn to God for guidance, comfort and strength.

Even Jesus Christ, the Only Begotten Son of God — the Only Perfect Being to walk the earth — learned through His suffering, “Though he were a son, yet learned he obedience by the things which he suffered;” (Hebrews 5:8).

God commanded Abraham to sacrifice his beloved son, Isaac — in symbolism for God, the Father, sacrificing His Beloved Son, Jesus Christ. God knew how Abraham would respond to his challenge. But Abraham didn’t. Abraham had to show Abraham how Abraham would respond. By being obedient to God’s commandment, Abraham demonstrated his faith and obedience. As God had pre-determined, Abraham was stopped by an angel as he was about to sacrifice his son; a ram was provided instead. Abraham had passed the test. Because of his faithfulness, he and his posterity were promised many blessings — too many to enumerate here. (see Bible Dictionary reference).

The Apostle Paul taught the saints in ancient Rome about tribulation. I will personalize and apply this to myself by changing “we,” “our” and “us” to “I,” “my” and “me”: “…[I ] glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope: and hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in [my heart] by the Holy Ghost which is given unto [me].” Romans 5:3

With humility, I acknowledge God’s loving and strengthening hand since Ashton’s suicide. His suicide has been indescribably difficult for me — but it has driven me to my knees, pleading for guidance and comfort. Through experiences too personal and sacred to share, I know that God lives, that He loves me, that He loves and has mercy upon Ashton.

On this Father’s Day, am I sorry to be Ashton’s father? No! Would I have chosen to have him end his own life through suicide? Of course not. However, I trust God. I believe in His Perfect Plan with all my heart. I don’t know EXACTLY how God is dealing with Ashton’s suicide, but, again, I trust Him. Things will work out. The price I am paying to become acquainted with God …through my trials…is a privilege to pay.

Written by Carter

Jordan, Ashton & Jacob with Carter ~ August 2013

I cried looking at Father’s Day cards today in Walmart. I’ve never done that before. I don’t usually let myself do that…. but I couldn’t hold it in. It just came… and there I was… with people walking by… noticing. People I knew. It’s Ok.

I picked one out that Ashton would give to Carter if he were here… if he were well and whole. I’m going to give it to Carter for Father’s Day along with my card, but I’ll wait until everyone is gone home to give him that one.

It’s a Thank You card, of sorts. Here’s what it says:

DAD

Thank you

For giving our family

a foundation of strength

and sense of enduring love….

Thank you

for setting an example

of good, old-fashioned hard work,

and of honesty, courage,

and high ideals.

Thank you

for being protector,

provider,

and problem-solver,

all in one…

For everything you do,

and give, and are…

thank you, Dad.

Happy Father’s Day

I think Ashton would want to thank his father this way. I think he could do that now… now that he can see and think and feel with out his earthly impediments. I think he knows now what an amazing man his father is. I think he helped me pick out that card. Those tears, I didn’t want to shed so openly in Walmart, didn’t come until I found that one.

Thank you Carter for being the father that Ashton needed on this earth. The father who would be gentle with him when he needed gentleness. The father who could love him the way he needed to be loved.

I truly believe that Heavenly Father gives us the parents we need for our life on this earth. He knows what we need and I believe he knew that Ashton would need Carter Mayberry to be his earthly father. What a blessing Carter is to me and to our family. We could not be who we are without his strong character, protection, and divine attributes.

For those who are missing their earthly fathers at this time…. I wish you a blessed Father’s Day as you remember them and honor them. For those fathers who are missing a child… I pray for a special spirit of peace to be with you as you remember your beloved son or daughter. I hope you can feel them close. I believe they can be close. I believe our Heavenly Father lets them.

Written by Faye