My Dad was my hero.  There, I said it!  No matter what I did, good or bad, he was always there for me. When things went well, he praised, when they did not he did his best to sort it out for me. 

Many will remember my Dad as a postman, he loved his job, he really enjoyed delivery mail in the rural villages around Folkestone.  Others will recall him as a keen bowler, he played for many years as a member of Wear Bay Bowls Club in Folkestone.  As an only child, I spent a lot of time with my Dad, it was from him that I learned to love nature and animals.  
Dad doted on his only grandchild ad was very proud to be a great-granddad too.  It was sad that he never got to meet his second great-granddaughter, Emma. 

Dad's death came a shock, he had battled and beaten lung cancer.  He had been looking forward to going to Span for the winter as he always did.  My last image of my Dad was at Gatwick airport, playing the fool, trying to walk backwards on the moving pavement,much to Mum's annoyance.  Five days later I received the phone call telling me my precious Dad had died in his sleep in Spain.  

I hope Dad's friends and family will see this tribute and approve of it as a modern memorial to a very special man.