More of my dad

Posted by Tania Kindersley.

You know how they say that grief takes people in different ways? I always thought that was a little bit of nonsense. Until I found myself wanting to put up pictures of my dad, riding over fences, with his teeth gritted.

I remember that look of absolute determination. I put them here, because I want them to be remembered. I want him to be remembered.

There are people in the world who will say: what are you doing? I say: I want the recollection of a man at his cussed, booted best. I want that to stand. I want it to be marked that he was a fellow of tremendous physical courage. I want to remember that there was a time, in my twenties, when every single cab driver in London knew his name, because they had won money on him. There is a glorious, irrational part of my mind which says: if the cab drivers know your name, then you must be all right.