A couple of people have unsubscribed from my blog after I posted something that is more spiritual in nature. That kind of bothered me initially, but, as I thought about it more, I realized that it would not be authentic of me to NOT share something that is so foundational for me. My spiritual and religious beliefs is such a fundamental part of who I am that I cannot NOT share it. I realize that there are many that believe and feel differently. I humbly respect and acknowledge those viewpoints. I’m also grateful to live in a country where disagreeing (with kindness and civility) is considered to be healthy and is even encouraged. I sincerely hope that those who unsubscribe or unfollow have their needs met elsewhere.
    As I mentioned in a previous post, I see a psychiatrist for my depression. At my last appointment, he asked me some thought-provoking questions regarding Ashton’s death: Are you angry with God? Are you angry with life? Are you angry with Ashton? Are you angry with Faye? Are you angry with yourself? Are you angry with anyone else? I do not judge or condemn anyone who answers “yes” to any of these questions. However, I honestly can say “no” to every question he asked. I regret that I had a gun that Ashton used to take his own life. However, I had asked him a few weeks before his death if he was suicidal and he said “no.” In retrospect, I think he was determined to take his own life and the method would have been something different had I NOT had a gun. God has helped take away the “coulda-woulda-shoudas” surrounding Ashton’s death. He has given me peace. I heard a talk recently about a woman who became blind when she was about 9 years old. She said, “To those who ask me if I am angry because I am blind, I respond, ‘Who would I be angry with? Heavenly Father is in this with me; I am not alone. He is with me all the time.'” I echo those sentiments. I am grateful for God’s guiding hand that has helped me to heal. I likewise am not alone. He is with me all the time.
    When Ashton died, we chose to donate his corneas, the skin on his back and his ankle bones to others who could use them. His heart valves were damaged, so we could not donate those. When we were serving in Peru, there was a sister missionary from Peru who developed a severe corneal infection while serving in another country. To save her eye, the doctors in that country had to cut out her cornea and give her a temporary transplant until the infection resolved, which took about 6 months. Then I helped facilitate a corneal transplant where the donor was from the US. Because the corneal infection happened on her mission, the Church paid for this medical care. It was bittersweet for me to be on the “other side” of a corneal transplant; I know something of the sadness of the donor family, but was now seeing the hope for sight again on the part of the recipient. When we returned home in October, I sent a letter through the donor network, asking them to forward it to the two recipients of Ashton’s corneas. I followed the donor network’s suggested format for these letters, which they handle frequently. I shared Ashton’s first name, how old he was, what he liked to do, etc. Just this week, we received a letter from one of his cornea recipients. She also shared her first name, what she likes to do and how Ashton’s cornea has helped improve her quality of life. It was hard to be reminded of our son’s death, but I was grateful to know that someone else’s life was improved. Not coincidentally, I also saw a patient this week who had a heart valve transplant. When I referred to the valve as having come from a “cadaver,” he said, “I prefer to use the word ‘donor.'” I’m glad he said that; I like thinking of Ashton as a “donor,” rather than a “cadaver,” also.
    Faye and I attended the TucsonSurvivors of Suicide support group Thursday evening. The first time we went (in May), I kind of dreaded going, but felt lighter and lifted afterward. This time, while I didn’t know exactly how it would go, who would be there, etc., I looked forward to going more than I did the first time. The American Association of Suicidology publishes a 30-page booklet entitled, “A Handbook for Survivors of Suicide,” which I highly recommend for others in our situation. One paragraph states, “Others may tire of talking about [your loved one’s suicide] long before you do. Talking through your feelings and fears is essential for recovery from your trauma. Unfortunately, while your closest supporters may be willing to listen and share with you for a few weeks or months, there’s likely to come a time when their thoughts move on from the suicide while yours are still racing. This is why support groups are so valuable. Fellow survivors understand what you’re feeling in a way that even your closest friends cannot. Your fellow group members will never grow weary of offering supportive words and sympathetic ears.”
    Faye and I received our mission call to serve in the Pacific Area starting in December. I will be Area Medical Adviser (AMA) again, with similar duties to what I had in Peru. We will live in Auckland, New Zealand. We “signed up” for this mission at the same time as our Peru mission (in the fall of 2015). We have been looking forward to serving in the same part of the world as Ashton did when he was a missionary; he served in Fiji. The Church leader in Salt Lake City who oversees AMAs called us a couple weeks ago and said we may not be able to serve in New Zealand because the government of New Zealand is very strict with who they allow into their country. Most people have three leaflets in their aortic heart valve; I only have two. Those with three leaflets tend to wear out those leaflets, requiring surgery to replace the valve in their 70’s; those with two leaflets tend to wear theirs out ten years earlier. I guess New Zealand might not want to take a chance that my valve will wear out in my 50’s. Faye and I fasted and prayed and took the matter to the Lord in His temple in The Gila Valley. We both felt like we should proceed with our plans to serve in New Zealand, understanding that the mission is not about us; that it is about serving wherever the Lord needs us. We are praying for a miracle and that we will be allowed to serve in New Zealand. “But if not,” we will serve wherever we are assigned. As I was praying this week, the words came into my mind, “Be still, and know that I am God.” I almost laughed out loud when that happened because it was so clear what I needed to do: trust God. I mentioned this experience to my cousin, who said, “Isn’t it a relief when you come to that realization?! You don’t need to worry about the outcome; it is in God’s hands!” Yes! I can do that! I can trust God!
    Written by Carter