A Father’s Story by Lionel Dahmer EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Authors: Lionel Dahmer
- Language: English
- Genre: Crime & Criminal Biographies
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 1 MB
- Pages:
- Price: Free
- Publish Date: January 1, 1994
My son Jeff was born in Milwaukee on May 21, 1960. It had not been
an easy pregnancy. My wife had gotten pregnant very quickly, only
two months after our marriage, and neither of us, I suppose, was really
prepared for it. During the first part of her pregnancy, Joyce began to suffer
from morning sickness, and as time went on, it steadily worsened into a
more or less continual state of nausea, one so severe that she found it
difficult to keep any food down at all. Her continual vomiting even affected
her ability to work, and she finally found it necessary to quit her job as a
teletype instructor.
After that, Joyce remained at home, coping as best she could, not only
with nausea, but with other ailments, as well, both physical and emotional.
As the weeks passed, Joyce became increasingly nervous. Everything
seemed to bother her, but particularly the noise and cooking odors that came
from the family below us in the small two-family apartment building in
which we lived. She found the slightest noise unbearable, and every odor,
regardless of how ordinary, was insufferable to her.
She continually
demanded that I do something about these things. She wanted me to
complain about every noise, every odor. But this was something that I
simply could not do. I have always found it difficult to confront other
people, and certainly, I felt unable to confront my downstairs neighbors
about noises and odors that were well within normal range. The fact is,
none of the problems that Joyce continually complained about seemed very
bad to me.
But they seemed very bad to Joyce, and over time, she grew
increasingly irritable at my refusal to complain to our neighbors. Because of
that, we began to argue. At times, the arguments were very heated, and
once, to escape the tension they generated, Joyce left the house completely,
and walked to a nearby park, where she sat on a bench, wrapped in her coat,
all alone in the snow, until I came for her, tugged her from the bench, and
walked her back to the house. I can remember how she trembled beneath
my arm as I led her home. There was a real sadness in her face, but there
didn’t seem to be much I could do to relieve it. I felt helpless. She would
ask me if I loved her, and I would always reassure her, even though these
reassurances never seemed to satisfy her.
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