AT this time of the year, it is customary to rain tributes on the men in our lives. The media, retailer businesses, advertising agencies, churches and so on, love this celebration. And why not, it is an opportunity to reflect on the structure of the family, giving praise and thanks to those fathers who are truly real Dads.The words, father and Dad, should be synonymous, but they are not, being truly more than just words apart. Dads can be described as fathers, but not all fathers can be called "Dad".

A few years ago, the Florida Supreme Court delineated a father as the sum of many parts; biological, marital, legal, functional, support, or possibly all of the above. As defined below, any one father may occupy one or several of these definitions simultaneously.

A biological father provides 50 percent of your DNA — contributed during the oldest meeting ritual on the face of the earth. Nature functioned effortlessly, that is, until recently when a female sheep (or was it a whale) decided to generate an offspring completely by her own efforts. Nothing to it. The event takes place and everyone moves on with the game of life. Imagine how busy said supreme court will be deciding who is responsible for what, if the new method of delivering blessed events transcends to humans?

A "marital father" is the mother's husband on the day the child is born, while a "legal father" means the man who is legally identified as the person with all the rights, privileges, duties and obligations of fatherhood for a specific child.

A "support father" describes a man who only is expected to provide economic support for a child, and either has no visitation or custody rights or is not expected to fulfil these nurturing functions for personal reasons.

The man who actually raises the child is referred to as the "functional father". More traditionally, this is "Dad": the man who provides both economic and emotional support for the child, and with whom the child develops a lasting emotional bond.

Functional Dad is a fully involved male role model who cheerfully assumes responsibility for and cares about his children. A real Dad is such a committed individual in that child's life that he would, without hesitation, "stop a bullet" to ensure the safety and continued well being of his family.

Never having a choice in the conception matter, children often bear the brunt of adult misadventure. How does a child survive when they realise that their father may never fit the established norm: incarcerated for a violent act, an anonymous donor, prematurely deceased or just plain indifference?

Statistics have demonstrated that in this sheer challenge to the process of maturation, the child is forced to adapt and that those who have flourished have received consistent care from someone who becomes their "surrogate" Dad.

The passionate comments below about Dads are excerpted from MetaFilter Network LLC - there are many more worth reading.

"My father taught me that diet and exercise aren't enough to keep you from succumbing to stroke and heart attack if your job is killing you. When my work-related stress had been at that point for about five years, I left it.

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My father taught me that authority comes from the use of fear, popularity, or knowledge. I picked knowledge.

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My father taught me that just a very small handful of really special and unusual parent-child interactions — 'hey, let's go across town for no reason whatsoever and eat a hot dog' kind of stuff — can form the basis for some significant childhood memories. I made my kids' dinner entirely out of desserts once, as a result of this.

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My father taught me that if you're going to go to the trouble of doing something, finish it.

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His entire life, my father worked too hard. Long hours at the office, years of study, saving, and serious work, and today he has, I think, about all he could ask for materially. He was literally dirt poor growing up, but he managed to achieve his version of The Dream through sheer determination.

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He taught me that there is always room to work a little harder, to make the extra effort, and be a little more prepared — that as long as there's anything else you can do, it's still in your court. Every time I'm frustrated and want to give up on something, I'm compelled to admit to myself that I haven't actually tried everything yet. I think I owe my father for that.

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Through his constant faith in me and his willingness to step back and let me make my own decisions he gave me self-respect and through his example gave me the integrity to take responsibility for my own actions.

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He taught me, implicitly, how to recognise a good man and by doing so set the standard for the men I would have in my own life.

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Dad's only real explicit lesson to me, endlessly repeated, was 'Accept responsibility for the consequences of your own actions.' That is a good lesson, I think.

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He also taught me how to shoot pool, how to garden, how to work on cars, how to fix anything around the house; and, by example over many years, the value of unconditional love."

Mistakes make fathers; fathers make mistakes. They are human, not infallible beings: the media spokesman whose hidden second family appeared after his death; the famous senator, moral arbiter of the Deep South, whose career was spent circumventing his connection to his daughter; the wealthy entrepreneur who gave his son everything, but forgot to send his private jet to bring him home for family holiday of holidays — Thanksgiving. Left out and left behind at school, his son came to our home instead.

A Dad will move forward to re-establish bonds of love and caring, no matter the mistakes.

For those Dads who have had differences with your children and children whose relationship is not the best with their Dad, tomorrow is another chance to look forward, not back, to forgive, not to place blame, to enjoy just being, make amends without expectations. Reach for your cellphone or send an email to start a reconciliation process. There may never be another chance.

I wish I had taken more of my own advice.

In memory of our Dad 1918-2004.