I keep my phone on silent for his name

I just read the piece called The Call I Wish I Had Answered and it opened a wound I have been dressing quietly. My father and I have not really spoken in two years. Ramadan makes the silence unbearable. I sit for suhoor and the kitchen feels too big, I pass his empty chair at iftar and my throat tightens. I have a message he left on read, and a voice note I never sent. Part of me wants to pray and forgive right now, and another part is afraid of being shut out again. How do I reach across this Ramadan silence without losing myself? Has anyone else sat in this particular kind of ache?