I have been denied a generation. So has my wife; my two daughters and my son. So far, over half of that generational timeframe is irrevocably gone.

15 years.

Certainly we will not be able to recover the other half either. I wonder at times if it is sufficient time to acknowledge the painful truth, that one true potential for a generation has irrefutably been taken away?

Fifteen years is time enough for a newborn to come into the initial stages of adulthood. Experience, multiple birthdays; pre-school; Kindergarten; Junior & Senior High School; and if especially gifted, the start of advanced post secondary education.

But more than scholastic value, fifteen years should afford a young child the opportunity to learn about being part of a loving family; one with parents and siblings who love them and seek the best for them. Fifteen years would allow for the transition from child to a teenager, and all the confusing hormonal onslaughts that go along with the crossing of that threshold. Possibly including the joy and pain of a first love gained and lost.

Fifteen years can accommodate life lessons that instil a sense of identity. One that is gained through laughter and tears; triumphs and disappointments; times of confusion and times of clarity. These span of years could provide a map which unquestionably point to a Divine imprint on that individual. A map that is not so much directional, but revelatory; thereby showcasing who the person is; defining their purpose; launching them into their calling; establishing their lifelong relationships.

Fifteen years ago today, suddenly and without warning, Isaac Winston Edwards, our youngest son, was cut off from his generation. We were robbed of his infectious laughter; the sense of joy in his presence; the completeness of our family. He would have been 17 years old this coming September and one always wonders what he would look like. Would he be as tall as his brother? Would he still be the centre of giggling attention he was at 21 months? Would he have found his own unique, voice that he alone would impact the world with? What would he sound like as a man?

Sadly, his generation will never know. Neither will ours. But there is always Joy in the midst of sorrow, because our family is of the mind that we will be reunited once again. Not in this sphere of existence, but in a place that banishes all forms of sorrow. A place where we will be a complete family again.

Isaac, you are desperately missed and deeply loved.
Mom, Dad, Rebekah, Naomi, Ethan

Rev 21: 4 “He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.”