A Father’s Day reflection on fathers, families, bees — and the time we have together.

What makes a father? 

Biologically, the answer seems straightforward. Humanly, it is anything but. 

A father might be the man who gave us life. He might be the man who raised us. A stepfather. An adoptive or foster father. A grandfather. An uncle. A mentor. Or simply someone who stepped forward when a father was needed. 

Some fathers provide. Some nurture. The best learn to do both. 

They make breakfast, change nappies, do school runs, coach sport, read bedtime stories, worry quietly, offer advice that isn't always requested and eventually learn to stand back as their children become adults themselves. 

Some fathers become our greatest role models. 

And some teach us, painfully, the kind of person we never want to become. 

So this Father's Day, perhaps the most interesting question isn't what we should buy Dad. 

It's much simpler. 

What does it actually mean to be one? 

What Do We Really Want From a Father? 

Strip away occupation, income, possessions and status and what does a child actually need from a father? 

To feel safe. 

To know he'll turn up. 

To be listened to. 

To be encouraged. 

To know he's proud of them. 

To be loved without having to earn it. 

And perhaps most importantly: 

his time. 

The role of fathers has changed enormously too. 

In many families today, fathers cook, clean, pack lunches, change nappies, attend school events and share the everyday work of raising children in ways previous generations of men weren't always expected to. 

That's a good thing. 

Because providing for a family is about much more than bringing home an income. 

Presence is a form of providing too. 

And children have an extraordinary ability to know the difference. 

When the Father You Needed Wasn't There 

Father's Day isn't uncomplicated for everyone. 

For some, it brings wonderful memories of a father who was always there — teaching, encouraging, protecting and creating the quiet security of knowing someone had their back. 

For others, the word father carries something very different. 

A father may have been absent. Distant. Unreliable. Controlling. Frightening. Unable to express affection. Or responsible for experiences that left consequences long after childhood ended. 

Some children grow up with an extraordinary father as their role model. 

Others grow up learning what kind of father they never want to become. 

I understand something of that myself. 

My own experience of fatherhood didn't begin with the role model I would have wished for. And perhaps that's partly why, as I've grown older, I've thought more about what being a father actually means. 

Biology gives us a father. 

It doesn't guarantee us a role model. 

And understanding why someone behaved badly doesn't mean we need to excuse it. Nor does Father's Day mean every broken relationship should be repaired. Sometimes distance exists for very good reasons. 

But there is something hopeful in all of this. 

What happened in one generation doesn't have to determine what happens in the next. 

A man who wasn't shown affection can learn to say I love you. 

Someone whose father didn't turn up can decide that he will. 

Someone who grew up frightened can create a home where children feel safe. 

Someone who was never encouraged can become the loudest person applauding from the sideline. 

Sometimes the most important thing we pass to the next generation is something we consciously choose not to pass on at all. 

So, How Do Honey Bees Handle Fatherhood? 

Not particularly well, by human standards. 

Last week, in Every Bee Matters, we explored the extraordinary story of bees, flowers and honey stretching back more than 100 million years. 

This week, it's time the male honey bee got some attention. 

He's called a drone. 

The queen is female. Worker bees are female. The bees nursing the young, building comb, cleaning the hive, guarding it, regulating its temperature and gathering nectar and pollen are all female. 

And the males? 

Their principal biological role is reproduction. 

Drones don't forage for nectar or pollen. They don't make honey. They don't have stingers. 

Instead, they leave the colony hoping to mate with a queen. 

And honey-bee fatherhood gets stranger. 

A drone doesn't actually have a father. 

Male honey bees develop from unfertilised eggs, while female workers and queens develop from fertilised eggs — a reproductive system called haplodiploidy. 

Queens also mate with multiple drones, helping create genetic diversity within the colony. 

So yes, in purely biological terms, the honey-bee colony involves multiple “baby daddies”. 

Nature can be wonderfully unconventional. 

Fortunately, Human Fatherhood Gives Us More Opportunity 

Biology can make someone a father. 

What happens afterwards is the important part. 

We humans get to stay. 

To provide. 

To nurture. 

To teach someone to ride a bike. 

To make dinner. 

To read the same story for the hundredth time. 

To embarrass our children occasionally. 

To establish boundaries. 

To listen. 

To get things wrong. 

To apologise. 

To watch our children become adults and, if we're fortunate, watch those children become parents themselves. 

And sometimes fatherhood arrives in another form altogether. 

I'm 65 now. My daughter is 35 and has two young daughters of her own, so today I'm both a father and a grandfather. 

Life has also given me another perspective on fatherhood. My 20-year-old stepdaughter lives with my wife and me, and I've found myself once again in that everyday father role — being present, helping, guiding when it's wanted and, increasingly, knowing when to stand back. 

It has reminded me that fatherhood isn't necessarily defined by biology. 

Nor is it a job that simply finishes when a child turns 18. 

Sometimes fatherhood is a role we're given. Sometimes it's a role we choose to accept. 

How Many Times Will You See Someone You Love? 

My daughter and my two young granddaughters live around 1,000 kilometres away. 

Recently, I found myself thinking about the mathematics of family. 

If circumstances meant I saw my granddaughters only once a year, another ten years wouldn't necessarily mean ten more years together. 

It might mean seeing them only ten more times. 

That's a very different way of measuring time. 

And it made me wonder how often we think about the people we love in years when perhaps, occasionally, we should think about them in moments. 

Think about your own father. Your children. Your grandchildren. Or someone else who has been important in your life. 

If they live interstate or overseas, how many times might you actually sit around the same table over the next decade? 

When did you last call your father simply to talk? 

When did you last ask him something about his life you've never asked before? 

When did you last tell him you love him? 

Years can sound plentiful. Until we start counting moments. 

What Do Fathers Pass On? 

We inherit much more from our fathers than genetics. 

Children watch us. 

How we work. 

How we treat people. 

How we respond when we're angry. 

Whether we apologise when we're wrong. 

How we treat women. 

How we care for animals and the environment. 

Our relationship with food and health. 

Whether we make time for family. 

Whether our words match our actions. 

Children absorb behaviours long before they understand the values behind them. 

Some of those things we carry forward proudly. 

Others we decide must stop with us. 

Perhaps that's one of the great responsibilities of fatherhood: recognising that we're not simply raising children. 

We're helping shape adults who will influence another generation. 

The Dad Facts: FAQ Male Honey Bees Explained 

1. What is a male honey bee called? 

A male honey bee is called a drone. His principal biological role is reproduction rather than gathering food or performing the everyday work of the colony. 

2. Does a male honey bee have a father? 

No. This is one of the remarkable facts about honey bees. Drones develop from unfertilised eggs, so a male honey bee has a mother but no biological father. Female honey bees develop from fertilised eggs. 

3. What does a drone honey bee actually do? 

Drones leave their colonies and gather in areas where they may have the opportunity to mate with virgin queens. They don't collect nectar or pollen, make honey or carry out the normal duties of worker bees. 

4. What happens to a male honey bee after mating? 

Successful mating is fatal for the drone. Part of his reproductive anatomy remains with the queen during mating, and the drone dies shortly afterwards. 

Successful fatherhood has a rather significant downside if you're a honey bee. 

5. Do female honey bees really throw the males out of the hive? 

They can. When resources become scarce, particularly as colder periods approach, worker bees may expel drones rather than continue feeding males when opportunities for reproduction have diminished. 

No father. No foraging. One principal job. Death if successful. Possible eviction if unsuccessful. 

Perhaps we shouldn't take our Father's Day parenting advice from honey bees. 

A Father's Day Worth Remembering 

Fortunately, human fatherhood offers considerably more opportunity. 

We don't get to choose the father we're born to. 

But many of us do get to choose the father, grandfather, stepfather, mentor or role model we become. 

If you were fortunate enough to have a wonderful father, Father's Day is an opportunity to tell him. 

If there's a relationship genuinely worth repairing, perhaps it's an opportunity to consider taking the first step. 

And if distance exists for good reason, Father's Day can be a time to recognise the person who did turn up — or perhaps to recognise the different kind of parent you've chosen to become. 

None of us knows how many Father's Days we'll have with the people we love. 

So before the presents, before lunch and before another busy week begins: 

Turn up. 

Make the call. 

Spend the time. 

And if you can, tell someone you love them. 

Because years can sound plentiful. 

Until you start counting the times you'll actually see each other. 

Something for Dad? 

If you're looking for a Father's Day gift, we'd naturally love you to consider a jar of exceptional Australian Manuka honey. 

But after writing this, there's something I'd suggest giving him first. 

Your time. 

Make the call. Have lunch. Go for a walk. Ask him a question you've never asked before. 

And if you'd also like to give Dad something extraordinary from the Australian landscape, we're making it a little easier this Father's Day. 

20% OFF FOR FATHER'S DAY 

Enjoy 20% off all non-discounted Gather By products until midnight 10 September 2026. 

Use code: 

ThanksDad20 

at checkout. 

Whether it's for your father, grandfather, stepfather, someone who stepped into that role — or simply someone you'd like to thank — we hope it's given with something even more valuable. 

A little of your time. 

SHOP FATHER'S DAY – SAVE 20%

Still Not Sure? Talk to Julie. 

Not sure which Australian Manuka honey to choose? 

Julie has helped more than 10,000 Gather By customers understand Australian Manuka and choose the MGO that's right for them. 

Call Julie on 1300 849 080 
Monday–Friday | Business hours 

Or leave a message and she'll call you back. 

Happy Father's Day. 

Matt Blomfield 
Founder & CEO, Gather By 

PURE MANUKA POWER