My mother
often told me:
“Emily, you’re a beautiful girl. Why are you so hard on yourself?”
But I never believed her. The only person I never felt judged by was my grandfather, George, who was 73 years old.
He lived in a beautiful house outside the city, surrounded by a large garden and a swimming pool.
After my grandmother passed away, Grandpa rarely invited anyone over. But he always told me that his door was open.
Until one Sunday, when his strange request made me genuinely uncomfortable.
At nine that morning, Grandpa called.
“Emily, you absolutely have to come over today.”
“What happened, Grandpa?”
“There’s something important I need to show you.”
“What is it?”
He remained silent for a few seconds.
“Bring your swimsuit.”
I laughed.
“Grandpa, you know I don’t swim.”
“I know. But today, I want you to put it on.”
“Why?”
“You’ll understand when you get here.”
