There were years I gave ties and years I gave tools. Those were the good years. Then there were years I gave nothing. Those were the bad years. Being Daddy’s girl only works if Daddy sticks around. Mine didn’t, and Father’s Day quickly morphed into Forget Him Day. Not that that worked very well. How could I miss him and hate him at the same time? For years, I prayed, “Heal our relationship.” Still, there was no relationship. So I prayed, “Help me love him anyway.” We spoke a few times a year. The prayer changed to, “God, please bring restoration.” Then, my son got cancer.