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Me & Dad {1979}

Me & Dad {1979}

Today is a busy day for me and for you. I would never post something on a Saturday, but sometimes you (yes, you) share comments with me that I can’t escape—and your words stick with holy glue to my soul. And when that happens—well, I know God is up to something. And it’s up to me to courageously walk in obedience.

So, I’m disregarding the fact that Saturday postings don’t get a lot of traffic—especially on holiday weekends. But I’m going to trust the One who set this up because He knows one of you is ready for this.

Yesterday I wrote a blog on how I would spend my first Father’s Day without my dad. One of my readers, Delores, left a thought-provoking suggestion in the comments.

 I’d add one more thing to your list – do something to share the love you got from your dad, in honor of him, for someone who doesn’t really know their dad or have such a wonderful list of memories. What would your dad have done to share that love? A card, a smile and hug, a prayer, a gift, a game of golf, a walk and a listening ear? When doing things in memory of my loved ones, I find comfort to share their special touch in my life with others.

I think Delores is on to something.

Her ideas were great promptings for God to open my heart to the idea of something bigger and beyond the healing and honoring moments I prepared for Father’s Day. Those will be sacred moments indeed, but for the most part, except for my husband and boys–I will be alone.

I don’t want to be alone.

I. Need. You.

My heart longs to reach out and embrace my dad, but heaven is too far away. Too far.  I need you to do it for me. Please.



I ask this with a heavy heart—will you…please, hug your dad this weekend. Will you hug him for me? Will you hug him for you?

I know this sounds silly. A crazy plea that will never manifest into feeling my own dad’s arms around me…but somehow I want to believe that it will. Will you? I need you to do this for me. And something tells me you need to do it for you.

And Fathers,

Will you do this for your girl? Look her in the eye and tell her she is special. Tell her you believe in her. Tell her you will always love her—no matter what. And hug her for as long as she can stand it.

I know this is hard for many, not to mention outrageously vulnerable. One thing I’ve learned from you over this last past year is not all of you have shared the same relationship as I did with my dad. I’m so sorry. I really am. It hurts my heart to know that. But maybe, it’s time for reconciliation. Maybe it’s time to rebuild what was lost. Maybe it’s time to heal through a hug, phone call or a text. Maybe this Father’s Day you will have a brave heart.

I believe healing comes through God by way of vulnerability and within the safety of community. You are safe here.


I don’t know if this is what Delores was suggesting, but it’s the big thing that swelled up in my heart. Honoring the love my dad and I shared to become a launching pad for your relationship with your dad to deepen.

One more thing. I love pictures. Will you send me a picture of you and your dad?

Robin and her Dad

Robin and her Dad

I asked my dear friend Robin this crazy “hug your dad” request last fall. She did and surprised me with a photo. I’ve never met her dad, but if I remember right, I sobbed for nearly an hour after looking at the photo and healing and comfort came by way of hugs and tears.

With your permission I will post all the photos I receive in a collage here on the blog next week. If you don’t have a photo, that’s okay, I would love for you to share your story.

And if you are grieving like me, please, send me your photos too. Let’s honor, and heal…together.

Thank you friends. The journey is always richer with you.


*Send photos or email your dad stories to me at laura@laurakramer.org I’ll be collecting them through the end of the day on Wednesday June 19th.