For Babe Laufenberg, a former Dallas Cowboys backup quarterback and longtime radio analyst, most holidays and milestones are shrouded in dread. The days leading up to them feel like a grim countdown, each one heavier than the last, swelling into an exponentially crushing moment. But Father’s Day? That one is different. It’s bittersweet, a day he can half-savor, even as it carries the weight of profound loss.
“I tell people I have two boys,” Laufenberg, 65, says. “I don’t say I had two boys. I still feel like I have two boys. One’s here. And one’s up there.”
Here is Joe Willie Laufenberg, 30, a commercial real estate broker in Denver. Up there is Luke Laufenberg, forever 21, who died on Aug. 22, 2019, after a 20-month battle with Burkitt lymphoma, a rare and aggressive cancer that primarily affects children. Luke’s story, both heart-wrenching and inspiring, is familiar to many, especially in Dallas, where Babe’s career as a Cowboys player (1989-1991) and broadcaster (1996-present) has made him a local icon. Luke’s unyielding will to live, including his attempted comeback as a tight end at UT-El Paso, touched countless lives. Barely a week passes without a parent approaching Babe to share their own story of losing a child, a kinship he wishes he didn’t share.
By opening his Dallas home to share Luke’s story and his ongoing grief, Laufenberg hopes to offer solace to others enduring similar pain. “I know we weren’t the first to lose a child, and we won’t be the last,” he says. “But my heart goes out to everyone who has or will go through this.”
This Sunday will mark Babe’s fifth Father’s Day without Luke, the 2,124th day since his son’s passing. Time hasn’t dulled the pain, but Babe looks forward to a call from Joe Willie, who carries his own grief for his brother and best friend. Next week, Babe plans to visit Joe Willie in Colorado, and in July, they’ll fly fish in Bozeman, Montana, one of their shared passions. Yet Father’s Day remains complex. “Bittersweet is a good word,” Joe Willie says. “There’s an elephant in the room, something missing. It’s tough. Same with Mother’s Day for my mom.”
Babe and his ex-wife, Joan, divorced seven years ago but remain friends, having rallied around Luke during his two brutal battles with Burkitt’s. Diagnosed on Dec. 26, 2017, Luke was declared cancer-free on May 3, 2018, only for the disease to return in April 2019. High-profile visitors, including Babe’s close friends, former Cowboys quarterback Troy Aikman and then-coach Jason Garrett, marveled at Luke’s positivity. Nearly six years later, both remain awed by Luke’s fight and Babe’s commitment to keeping his memory alive.
“As hard as it is for fathers to fathom, you can’t understand the pain Babe must endure,” Aikman says. “My heart breaks for him.” Garrett, who wears a Cowboys-blue “Live Like Luke” bracelet tied to a UTEP scholarship fund in Luke’s name, adds, “It’s life’s greatest tragedy. I don’t know the mourning process to come out the other side. I just know how much he loves Joe Willie and Luke. They’re everything to him.”
A Home Filled with Memories
At Babe’s tidy Dallas home, a #LiveLikeLuke mug filled with White Rhino Coffee greets visitors, a nod to the Laufenberg boys’ love for coffee and concerts. The house is a shrine to family, with collages of framed photos in every room—fishing trips, concerts with Bruce Springsteen and the Beatles, Luke skydiving days after learning he had weeks to live. Each image tells a story, but the same photo can spark joy one moment and sorrow the next. “You look at a photo, and it’s a happy memory,” Babe says. “Ten seconds later, it flips a switch. There’s sadness because those times with Luke are gone.”
Grief arrives in waves, often unannounced, but Babe braces for trigger dates: his birthday (Dec. 5), which he loathes celebrating; July 12, when Luke’s terminal diagnosis was confirmed; and Aug. 22, the day Luke died. The hardest Father’s Day was during the COVID-19 pandemic, when isolation left Babe alone with his thoughts. “You know losing a child is the worst thing that can happen,” he says. “But when it happens, it’s a hundred times worse than you imagined. It guts you.”
Babe keeps a plastic box of Father’s Day and birthday cards from Luke and Joe Willie, each in a Ziploc bag, organized with what he calls “quarterback-brain” precision. A Crespi Carmelite High School Hall of Fame plaque, tucked in a kitchen corner, is the only hint of his storied athletic past—starring at Indiana University, drafted by Washington in 1983, and playing for five NFL teams over nine seasons. His trophies are boxed away. “My life is split into two parts,” he says. “Life with Luke. And without. I’d like today’s Babe to meet the Babe before Luke passed. Those two haven’t met.”
A Life in Sports, A Family in Focus
Born Brandon Laufenberg, the fifth of six children to Bill and Rose, Babe earned his nickname as a bat-toting toddler. His parents’ resilience—Bill orphaned at 13, Rose fleeing Mussolini’s Italy at 4—shaped a home where Babe’s teenage stardom, including a 1978 MLB draft pick by the San Francisco Giants, went uncelebrated. At Indiana, he starred as quarterback under Lee Corso, later joining the Cowboys in 1989, the same year they drafted Aikman. The two bonded, with Babe cooking breakfast for his rookie teammate on days off.
Babe’s NFL career ended in 1991, the year he married Joan, a pediatric oncology nurse. Joe Willie was born in 1995, named after Babe’s idol, Joe Namath. Luke arrived in 1998, as Babe began his broadcasting career. The Laufenberg boys bonded over fishing, concerts, and coffee, with Babe often road-tripping to shows with each son individually.
Luke’s Courageous Fight
Luke’s diagnosis in 2017 shattered the family. Burkitt’s, the fastest-growing human tumor, reduced the 6-4, 245-pound college athlete to 150 pounds. Yet Luke’s optimism shone, even as he faced death. “To be so young, face-to-face with death, and still smile—that’s remarkable,” Aikman says. Declared cancer-free in 2018, Luke rebuilt his body and trained at UTEP, only for the cancer to return in 2019. Given weeks to live, he chose experimental therapy over hospice, saying, “If I’m going down, I’m going down swinging.”
Garrett visited Luke hours before his death, struck by his selflessness, asking how Babe, Joan, and Joe Willie were coping. At 2:30 a.m. on Aug. 22, a nurse woke Babe, dozing beside Luke’s bed. “He’s gone.” Babe lay across his son’s chest, sobbing, “I’m sorry, Luke.” Leaving the room, he knew his life had changed forever. “I knew I had a different life ahead,” he says. “Unfortunately, I was right.”
Honoring Luke’s Legacy
Luke wanted his memorial to be a celebration, not a somber affair. Babe delivered a 35-minute eulogy, blending humor and tears, summoning strength after nearly backing out. “He found Luke’s spirit and conveyed it to everyone,” Garrett says. Luke’s ashes were spread at San Clemente Beach, per his wish. Babe returns there every Aug. 22, though this year, he’ll broadcast a Cowboys preseason game, a challenge he’ll face with resolve.
Father’s Day, July 12, and Aug. 22 remain grueling, but each passing year gives Babe strength to share his story, especially with other grieving parents. It’s what Luke would want. Through the Live Like Luke scholarship and his relentless openness, Babe keeps his son’s memory alive, navigating a life forever split: with Luke, and without.