Garrison Keillor once said, "The father of a daughter is nothing but a high-class hostage. A father turns a stony face to his sons, berates them, shakes his antlers, paws the ground, snorts, runs them off into the underbrush, but when his daughter puts her arm over his shoulder and says, 'Daddy, I need to ask you something,' he is a pat of butter in a hot frying pan."

This last week or so I have been reading posts on Open Salon from fellow writers who have posted their thoughts about their fathers. Most have been thoroughly heartbreaking. Only a few have been heartwarming. I have never experienced a Father's Day without considering my place in the world as both one who has filled the role as a father, and as one who has been the recipient of fathering by my own father.

I have three sons and three daughters living today. I lost one son who never drew a breath and one daughter, a twin to my youngest daughter who lived only minutes after being born. For most of my life my mantra was, "When I die, if all anyone can say about me is 'He was a good Dad,' then I will have lived a good life.'" I have always taken my role as father very seriously.

My two eldest sons have not spoken to me in months (my third and youngest son - age 26 next month - is an alcoholic and drug addict who lives in a homeless shelter just a couple of miles from me. He is so spaced out that I am certain he only sees me as a potential cash source for his next buzz.) The oldest two (ages 36 and 30 this year) have both written of their hatred of me and their desire never to associate with me in any way. One wrote that I am dead to him. I understand their feelings. I am a transsexual woman and I just came out one year ago this month. They are not the only ones that have rejected the real me since I transitioned. I hope and pray that they will eventually be able to again find a space in their hearts for me.

Fathering (and mothering, for that matter) are roles that people play. They have nothing to do with gender. I know lesbian couples and single mothers with children, and their kids have no lack of fathering. At times these women fill that role themselves and other times they fill the role with other family members or friends. Sometimes that role goes unfilled and that is when pain-filled posts like I have read on OS are composed. The complete absence of the father role is devastating to children and resentment is the natural response.

I have been a woman all my life, but as a transsexual woman, I hid my true nature for nearly fifty years. I lied about who I was. Society, it seemed, would allow me no alternative. So I filled the role of father to six lovely children as best I could. I tried to father my children like my own adopted father did for me. He was kindhearted but firm in his Christian belief in discipline, corporal punishment, and he certainly "ran me off into the underbrush" on many occasions.

My oldest daughter (age 28 next month) had a hard time with my transition but she never had a harsh word for me. She was silent for several months. It was processing time for her as she listened to her brothers and talked with some of her friends about having a transsexual father. She ended up concluding that I was still her father and that I will love her forever (as I will them all). She initiated contact with me again a couple of months ago and we have a lovely relationship again. My middle daughter (age 20 next month) has been close to me all along. (My youngest daughter - now age 18 - has not been in my life for more than thirteen years. Her mother moved suddenly and without notice and I found out when I went to pick her up for my weekend visit, only to find an empty house and no forwarding address).

I have very mixed emotions on this Father's Day. There will be no backyard barbecue at my son's house this year as in past years. I will not get the only gift I ever wanted for Father's Day, and that is to be with all of my children. Tonight I am planning to have dinner with my two oldest daughters and my beloved at a local restaurant. I will be thinking of all of my children with hope for the future. And I very much look forward to being a pat of butter in a hot frying pan.