Sunday, June 17th, 2012 08:36 am
As I suspect is the case with most geneabloggers, full identities of fathers in the family history are usually easier to come by than is the case for mothers.

Out of 20,000+ souls in my family tree, I still have 539 MNUs and it bugs the heck out of me.

Some of the fathers in my family history could rightly be considered heroes. A few of them had a tad too many less-than-sterling qualities for hero status, including my own g-g-grandfather.
Nonetheless, I see examples of fathers who are unsung heroes every day - in my family tree, and men who aren't related to me at all.

These men - the dads, I call them - don't fit the mold we in the United States have crafted for fathers in our history - stoic breadwinners who left the details of child-raising to the women.

I think of my grandfathers...Papa Joe (Williams), who nearly always had that mischievous grin on his face. He was my Papa who helped me use the magnifying glass to read new words in his prized unabridged Webster's dictionary, because one could just never know too many words...

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And my Granddaddy Burris, who loved to tease his granddaughters as they grew about whether or not we had a boyfriend...

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We lost both of them too soon, but certainly had them long enough to benefit from their wisdom and their love.
About a year and a half ago, I blogged about a daddy whose love for his children made me cry.

I am not related to him, but I knew his daughter a long time ago. If you're like me, you'll need to read The Lines on the Doorframe with tissues in hand.
There's another daddy I know who frequently makes me misty-eyed.

He's my son. On my everything-else blog, I've written a Father's Day tribute to Adam.

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Happy Father's Day to all the dads...
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