I read so many beautiful tributes to fathers yesterday. I looked at photos and videos of the men who tirelessly dedicate themselves to their families. I must admit that Father’s Day has been a bittersweet event for me ever since my own daddy was killed in a car crash back in 1957, so when I saw a post from a young woman whose father died only weeks ago I empathized with the grief that she is still feeling. I viscerally understood her sense of loss. It is something that never completely goes away. Fathers are an important part of who each of us is and who we eventually become.

After my father died our family struggled to determine how to celebrate Father’s Day. There was a huge void in our lives that my mother tried desperately to fill for us but which she never quite accomplished. We had other male role models like uncles and my grandfather who were wonderful in their own right and did their best to watch over us. From them we learned how good men behave. We felt secure because of them and our mom. We used to joke that our mama was both our mother and our father and we often gave her a little gift on Father’s Day. Still in the back of our minds was a sense of regret that we would never really know our father in an adult way. He would be forever young and we would only know him in an immature way.

I loved fairytales and I identified with characters who had lost their fathers. I suppose that I idealized my father. Over time I only remembered the most wonderful and remarkable things about him. I often fantasized about how different life would have been if he had never been killed. Mostly though my brothers and I adapted to the reality of our situation. We learned that growing up in a single parent home didn’t have to be sad and dreary. Our mother was wonderful and she kept memories of our father alive by telling stories about him and boasting of his brilliance and love.

When I became a teacher I encountered so many young people who like me had no fathers. Some of them were children of divorce who divided their time between their parents. Others had never known their dads. All of them longed to know more about the man who had helped to create their lives. It seems to be human nature to want knowledge of both our mothers and our fathers and their families as well.

I watched the new version of Roots that was shown on several channels a few weeks ago. Perhaps the strongest theme of that series was the importance of family. We cling to the lessons that our parents teach us and even when they are no longer with us we remember and appreciate what they have done for us. In the story of Kunta Kente we follow his life from the time that he is a young man living happily with his family in Africa to his capture and imprisonment as a slave when he was forced to adapt to a new world without freedom. He kept his dignity because he felt the spirit of his father inside his very soul. He passed those feelings down to his children even when they too were ripped from the people who most loved them. From one generation to the next the lessons that Kunta Kente had learned were a treasured part of the family lore.

All of us want and need the steadying hands of our parents. It is of course most ideal when we have both of them but many of us have to be content with only one parent. Some of us even have parents who did not birth us but who love us nonetheless. It is in the care and comfort that they provide that we grow into capable adults.

Fathers form the bedrock of our existences. President Barack Obama longed to understand his own father and journeyed around the world attempting to understand the man with whom his mother created a life. Like me he grew up with males who were surrogate role models. He loved them and appreciated the support that they gave him but he needed to learn the roots of who he was by reflecting on the life of his dad.

Mike and I spent Father’s Day with my father-in-law. Julio Gonzales who is as good a father as there ever was. He married Mike’s mom when Mike was five years old. He became the papa who was there for every milestone. He provided Mike with a home, food, an education. He taught him how to be a good and loving man. He is Mike’s real father in every sense of the word and the grandfather of our daughters. He is the patriarch of our family, the steadying force who stands at the center of our lives. He worries and frets over us just as he did when Mike was still a boy. He never stops being a dad.

The funeral for my son-in-law’s grandfather was held on Saturday. He was 101 years old and beloved by a huge extended family that will miss his storytelling, wit and wisdom. Like other fathers he spent a lifetime protecting and caring for his children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. They were all the focal point of his life. He worked hard and played hard with them. He was willing to sit down in the dirt with a child to play with a doodle bug. He enjoyed entertaining his family with legendary jokes and smiles.

There are many kinds of fathers and sometimes there are no fathers. We all seem to need them or at least a substitute for them. They teach us how to live and love and laugh.

I still remember my own father reading voraciously and loving sports and politics. I can see him fishing and laugh when I think of how he carried his pole in the trunk of his car just in case he found a body of water and a few minutes of leisure time. He was an historian, an artist and an engineer. He loved his friends and our mother and me and my brothers. He was a man of culture who played classical music and recited poetry. He was an adventurer who wanted to see the world. Even though he was only with me for eight years he taught me all that I needed to know. He showed me how to be my very best. He lives in me and my brothers to this very day.

I hope that all of the wonderful fathers that I know enjoyed themselves yesterday. I hope that they realize just how much they will always be loved by their children. We don’t always take the time to convey our feelings to our fathers and the men who substitute for our fathers but the thoughts are always there in our hearts.