Two Years Ago Today,

My dearest son, Jamie…I am sitting at Sharon’s house today and thinking about you. I can hardly believe it is 2 years since you took your last breath on earth.

Time is funny someday’s it seems like your death happened just yesterday and other times like you have been gone forever.  I miss you like crazy whether it “seems like yesterday” or “feels like forever.”

I went to Vanderbilt this week and sat in the family waiting area. Of course I couldn’t go back in the Trauma area because I don’t have a loved one there to get a pass. But, it was good I went and sat and reflected on those horrible, numbing 7 days. Looking at the families waiting and in agony I knew exactly what they were experiencing.

Bettianne came down on Friday and we had such a great time talking about you and some of your antics. I love hearing stories about things you did, I love listening to the songs you wrote, and sang. To be able to hear your voice and see your face in the multitude of photos and video’s we have is a great comfort.

Jamie, I also know you are fine, at peace and happier than you have ever been. Forgive me for sometimes being selfish and wishing you were still here. In all the books I have read this year, including some of those on near death experiences; no one really wants to come back, and I know you why.

How’s dad? How’s Lilly Bear?  Is she growing? We sometimes talk about if she will be a baby in heaven for Allyssa to raise or we’ll see be all grown up?

• What are you doing in heaven?
• Are you leading worship?
• Building our rooms?
• Exploring the universe?
• Do you celebrate your homecoming in heaven, like we do birthday’s down here?

I watched a good video on space this week, it was looking through the Hubble telescope. Hundreds of galaxies and billions of stars. I can’t imagine that; yet you can visit those places!

The one thing positive about you leaving planet earth is that I have learned so much about our eternal home. Like many of us here on earth, we have never been taught about heaven, only a few scriptures read at grave sites and spoken at funerals.

I understand that whether I join you in the intermediate heaven or I am still alive at the Lord’s coming, we will be together again.

 “Usually when we refer to Heaven, we mean the place where Christians go when they die. When we tell our children, “Grandma’s now in Heaven,” we’re referring to the intermediate, or present, Heaven. The term intermediate doesn’t mean it is halfway between Heaven and Hell, in some kind of purgatory or second-rate place. The intermediate Heaven is fully Heaven, fully in God’s presence, but it is intermediate in the sense that it’s temporary, not our final destination. Though it is a wonderful place, and we’ll love it there, it is not the place we are ultimately made for, and it is not the place where we will live forever. God has destined his children to live as resurrected beings on a resurrected Earth.

So, as wonderful as the intermediate Heaven is, we must not lose sight of our true destination, the New Earth, which will also be in God’s presence (because that’s what Heaven is, the central place of God’s dwelling). Randy Alcorn

Sometimes we laugh at all the things we will do together. You should read some of Beka, Abbey and Christa’s text messages. Some would call it morbid but we call it morbid humor. And knowing you and dad, you are cracking up too.

“Truly, truly, I say to you, if anyone keeps My word he will never see death” (John 8:51).

“Jesus said … ‘I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?’” (John 11:25-26).

We ALL miss you like crazy, Jamie. Here is the blog Christa wrote for you today. Give my mom and dad, and grandpa and grandma Caulk and Lilly Bear and daddy a kiss from their mama!

Stay strong, stay faithful, stay honest, stay loving, stay true to who you are, most importantly stay true to who God is as you’ll be who you are, and you’ll be happy, you’ll be you, you’ll be free. –Jamie Caulk

I’m trying to, James Lindsay.

I love you and I’ll see you soon!

Mom