I was in CVS looking for graduation cards. Most were gone. The cards next to the empty graduation cards were Father’s Day. For some reason, I picked up a Father’s Day card. As I read it, I started to quietly sob.

A young woman nearby noticed and gently asked, “Are you okay?”
I nodded, trying to compose myself. She quietly said, “I lost my dad six months ago. I don’t even know why I’m looking at these cards.”
There we were: a 79-year-old woman and a 32-year-old stranger, comforting one another in the middle of a card aisle at CVS.

We ended up at Dunkin’ Donuts, sharing coffee and stories about our dads—her father lost to pancreatic cancer, mine to a cerebral stroke.
I was a daddy’s girl. An only child. His farmhand, his conversation partner, his legacy. He didn’t want me to stay on the farm—he envisioned more for me. He was wise, kind, and full of humor.

She asked me how long will she grieve the loss of her father. Grief, I thought, for me had long passed. But 35 years later, a card brought it all back. I told her: “Grief softens over time, but it never fully disappears. We carry their spirit with us in our hearts.”

As Father’s Day approaches, I envy those spending the day with their dads—and yet, I’m deeply grateful for the memories I still hold.
If you’ve lost your father, what helps you honor his memory?

If you’re lucky enough to still have him, how are you making new memories this year?
Let’s share the stories that keep their legacy alive.