A Fatherless Daughter: A Tiny Broken Heart

Grief is unpredictable and overwhelming. I’m reminded of this in the most unexpected moments.

My father, Roger Kramer passed away from lung cancer on June 2nd, 2019 after his 129 day battle. His cancer progressed quickly after his diagnosis on January 24th 2019. The cancer spread to his C2, eating away at the bone and fracturing his neck. After finishing chemotherapy and radiation, a PET scan t revealed the cancer had spread throughout his body. I was honored to care for him in his final days and he passed away 4 days later. We not only lost a father but Craig and I lost a dear friend and community member.

I think we all take turns in the barrel. Last month, mom was having a hard time. There was one weekend where I cried several times. Grief comes and goes and ebbs and flows. I talk about grief in an analogy here:


Sometimes my ball is big and my box is small and sometimes I can go days without the ache of grief tugging at me. I forget that even the smallest of us still have our turns in the barrel.

It’s harvest season. I was feeling a little lonely and I invited my mom and brother over for supper tonight. Laughing, joking, smiling, happiness and goofiness ensued. Until all of a sudden, Carver got very serious. He got very quiet. I said “Carver, what’s wrong?” He burst into tears.

“I miss Papa Moo. I didn’t want him to die.”

Queue the waterworks for ALL of us. It stopped us all right in our tracks. Even the littlest hearts, the hearts that lost their hero at 2 1/2 years old still hurt.

I scooped my now four year old into my arms. He’s laying on me right now as I write this. I had plans for tonight but none of them matter now. I need to be here for my boy.

Before mom left she read Carver the Papa Moo book (my dad was a farmer and was so lovingly called Papa Moo) and our tears soon turned into laughter and pictures and memories.

You can read more about our Papa Moo book here:


He perked up a bit after we read the book but he’s still pretty droopy. Just like when I’m grieving and I don’t need someone to fix me, I’m just trying to be here for him and not fix him.

That’s all I have for tonight folks. Thanks for reading.



  1. Kim J LeMere
    October 21, 2020 / 12:29 am

    Out of the mouths of babies, I’m so glad that didn’t feel the need to fix him but just be with him. Grief is personal and everyone deals with it differently. Hugs to Roger’s family members

  2. Ellie
    October 21, 2020 / 1:07 am

    Hugs for all of you!

  3. Lynne Nicholson UK
    October 21, 2020 / 7:21 am

    Poor sweet Carver I’m so glad you don’t try to fix him.

    Recently I opened up about my feelings for September (or Hell Month- I have total pile up of sad anniversaries in September)… immediately people jumped in trying to fix me… well for 11 months of the year I’m pretty positive, and I struggle through one month to hold on to my smile and feel sad… nope I don’t need fixing I need to acknowledge the sadness

  4. Elle
    October 21, 2020 / 3:47 pm

    Hugs to you all. Grief sneaks up on us in unexpected ways and unexpected times. I’m glad that you all embrace the grief and the love that causes grief, as you comfort one another. God Bless you all…you are Kramer strong!

  5. Missy Reynolds
    October 22, 2020 / 4:36 pm

    I love the ball in the box analogy. I’ve always described grief as like driving down a road with a bunch of pot holes. Some you are coming, like anniversaries and birthdays and holidays, and some you don’t. You hit those with full force and bottom out. Bless you for understanding your sweet boy’s grief and loving him through it.

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