Our father, Andronicos Michael, was an extraordinary, ordinary man, a barber by trade, but far far more than that in life; he was a husband, a father, a grandfather, a brother, an uncle, a teacher and a friend to many.

He was a man that was generous beyond comprehension.

We have so many vivid memories of our father whilst we were growing up. Holding our hand as children, he would point out the flowers, taking in their beauty whilst questioning their formation; at other times he would point at the birds flying and pushing our young minds to question how they did that.

Whilst in the car, my father always had Greek songs playing – “Listen to the words” he used to instruct “Are you listening to the words?” he would ask. Regardless of whether we did or didn’t ‘listen to the words’ dad would proceed to translate the words of Stelios Kazantzithis on our journey to school every morning.

“Do telefteo vrathi mou abopse do bernao …” Kazantsithis would sing in his melodic voice as dad translated “Tonight is my last night …”

“Ibarho … kai oso ibarhis, tha ibarho” sang Kazantzithi in another well-known song. “I exist … and for us long as you exist, I will exist’.

As young children we didn’t fully appreciate those translations nor the actual interpretation of those lyrics and how they would impact upon our lives.

Our father, died at the age of 66 years as a result of complications after surgery.

As he lay in his hospital bed, with little time left on this Earth, he was surrounded by his family and closest friends. We kissed his hands that brought us up with so much love and thanked him for everything he had given us and for the love that he had showered upon us. And, as he prepared to take his final journey, with our hearts fragmenting into a million pieces, we sang his favourite song … “Do telefdeo vrathi mou abopse do bernao …

Our father, this extraordinary man, was no longer with us. Grief stricken; we could not comprehend a life without him. As time went on however, we realised how blessed we were to have such a wonderful man as our father – our dad. We realised that whilst his physical presence was no longer with us, the memories we had created were in our minds and in our hearts forever.

We vowed that, for as long as we were alive, so would our father’s memory live on.

What then began to cause us angst, was the thought that, after we were gone, followed by the generation of his grandchildren, no one would really know who this amazing man was and, eventually his memory would fade, and he would “cease to exist”.

It was then that we came up with the idea of encapsulating the memory of our father (and loved ones) for generations to come in one simple QR Code. We would create a QR code that can be placed on his tombstone which, once scanned by any smart device, would give access to his story – who he was and what he meant to those around him.

Our father was taken away far too soon for us, but his memory through the QR code will exist for many more generations to come… because, for as long as there is ‘us’ there will also be ‘him’.