SO, we’re at my nephew’s birthday party on Sunday, talking about our first memories or something like that. My Dad, whom I have known all my life, 35 whole years, tells me about his first memory. Why I haven’t heard about it till now, I’ll never know.
I have this idealized image of my Grandma in my mind. She wasn’t perfect, but she was really a wonderful woman. She loved Jesus, loved people, just a great lady.
My Dad told everyone at the party that his first memory is of my Grandma holding him under the water in the bathtub. I thought he he had to be kidding. He said, nope. It’s the truth. He said he remembers her face so angry and himself gurgling under the water.
My own sweet, precious Grandma, who was a nurse? She would never harm a flea.
I guess when my Dad was around 25 or so she told my parents that my Dad had been acting horribly, and that was the only way to get his attention.
My Dad acting horribly? I can’t imagine!