I felt nothing but numbness at my dad’s death – but then I read the book he gave me on my wedding day

Dylan Thomas’s Under Milk Wood reminded me of my dad’s decency and mischief. I laughed as I cried, and realised there’s no right way to go through the grieving process I expected to break. But I felt nothing. I did not cry, nor struggle to sleep. I seldom thought of him. I felt o

Dylan Thomas’s Under Milk Wood reminded me of my dad’s decency and mischief. I laughed as I cried, and realised there’s no right way to go through the grieving process I expected to break. But I felt nothing.

I did not cry, nor struggle to sleep. I seldom thought of him. I felt only guilt about how little I felt.

Ours was a complex relationship. As a teen, I often resented my dad, occasionally despised him. I expected the world and found disappointment.

But, as I grew older, I understood that he had struggles of his own. I learned to appreciate his decency and humour, his ability to make everyone laugh with only a few words. I loved my dad, from the first time he held me to the last time I held him.

But still, as weeks turned into months, I struggled to grieve. Then, when my partner and I rearranged our bookshelves, I found the first edition of Under Milk Wood that my parents gave us on our wedding day. I turned the cover and saw the note: “And all the bells of the tills of the town shall ring for our wedding.” It was my mum’s writing, but my dad’s idea.

The man loved literature and poetry and considered Dylan Thomas, along with his dad and the Welsh rugby full-back JPR Williams , one of the best man to ever occupy our world. Continue reading...