Family Mystery #4, updated again...

To recap, for those arriving later to the party:  In my parents' papers when they died was an envelope containing a handwritten letter.  The return address was from a DEA agent working in Bogota, Colombia.  The letter was nothing interesting, the continuation of a conversation about a piece of art.  Also inside was a photocopy of my grandparents' marriage certificate.  In Spanish. 

Fast forward a good long while, and the (now former) DEA agent turns out to be an incredibly gracious guy who's more than happy to answer my questions.  Turns out he didn't send the certificate, my mom must've stuck it in the envelope.  Also, they were married in Mexico, not Colombia.  Guess I should've wedged a bit of Spanish in with those 6 years of French.  Ah, well...

The questions that remained were these:  Why did my grandparents get married in Mexico? I suppose it's not too much of a stretch since they lived in Southern California... And, more strangely, how did my mom (the cute little girl torturing the cat, to your left) become pen pals with a DEA agent in South America while I was in college?

So back to the DEA agent I went.  Did I mention that this guy's incredibly gracious about being pestered regarding a letter he mailed in the 90s?  Anyway, he doesn't remember entirely, but thinks he posted an ad somewhere about vintage baseball posters that my mom or someone she knew answered and a correspondence was born.  This is weird on several levels.  I never knew mom to be a fan of baseball, or antique baseball posters.  Also, the letter thanks her for referring Agent Nice Guy to "Bill".  I don't know of anyone in my mom's acquaintance named Bill.  Normally, that wouldn't be a big deal, but with my mom, I began to wonder if he might've been an errant husband she picked up while my stepdad was at the grocery store (See Family Mystery #1 for an explanation that makes that last sentence seem less horrible...).  Agent Nice Guy promises to get in touch if he finds any more letters that might shed some light.  Here's hoping.

Really, the maddening thing is this:  The more I learn about my mother, the more I realize that I really didn't know her at all.  Frustrating.  Take this picture for example...  It's my mom at what I thought was her prom (the timing of the photo is about right), but coincidentally, it's also the year she got married for the first time at the ripe old age of 16.  Maybe it's a wedding picture?  I really dunno.  What do I really know?  As a toddler I got in trouble all the time for messing with that lamp.  Apparently, it was an antique.

The other thing I know (and am trying really, really hard to remember as I dig through all this craziness) is this:

That crazy lady, the one with the poor fashion sense, who married just about everybody, loved me like crazy.  She thought I was pretty much the best thing ever, and made sure I knew it.  That counts for a whole lot.

Those Crazy Family Mysteries -- Part I

As promised, here's a glance at all those family mysteries I'm working on.  But first, a little bit of history:  I'm my mom's only child.  My dad was much older (19 years or so) than my mom and had 3 mostly grown kids when they married.  He was sick pretty much my whole life and passed away when I was 7.  Mom remarried almost immediately.  Then (anyone else seeing a pattern here?) remarried again about 2 years later.  She was married to this one -- my step dad -- until they died a few years ago about 4 months apart.  That's when the real fun started, with the cleaning out of the house.  Here's what we found:

Mystery #1
My mom was married how many times??  Look at that sweet little face!  Who'd have guessed she'd be married 5 (!!) times??  Not me, that's for sure...

Two of my best guy friends landed the unfortunate task of cleaning out the papers in the den, and set to work sorting papers into keep and toss piles.  Mr. Right and I were working in the kitchen I think, when, at 15 minute intervals, one of my friends began shouting, "I found another husband!".  Seriously.  After the 2nd declaration, we had to stop and go for dinner.  There may or may not have been a margarita involved.  I knew Mom had been married 3 times (seemed like plenty to me), but it turns out my father was #3, not #1.  She married the first time when she was 16, divorced and married again at about 18.  They divorced when she was about 21.  And she never. said. a. word.  Not ever.

So, the questions at hand are:  Who were these guys?  Why did she get married so young? 


Mystery #2

My biological grandfather did what for a living?

When I was in college, my mom and grandmother were talking and let it slip that Grandma had been married to someone before Grandpa, and Hubby #1 was my mom's biological father.  As the story goes, he wasn't a great guy and was heavily involved in organized crime.  Seriously?  I always thought this picture of my grandma (it's my favorite, isn't it great?) was a Halloween costume or a joke.  Maybe it was just a candid family photo?

The questions at hand:  Is this true?  What's his story?  Is he still alive?  I have a name, so it's time to start doing some digging on the ol' interwebs...

Mystery #3

My great-great grandmother died how?

Family history says that my great-great grandmother on my mom's side committed suicide well into her 80s.  This was a lady who'd come to California in a covered wagon, raised a whole pile of kids (3 or 4 at least), and been married at least two (likely 3) times. What on earth would bring her to end it all at that late date?  Here's a picture of her with 3 of her children, my great grandmother (aka Nana), and 2 great, great uncles...

She's the cute old lady in the chair.  I want to know why she decided to make an early (does it count as early if you're 80 something?) exit.  I have a few leads on extended family to chase down.  I'm hoping one of them will remember her.

And that is it... for now.  I have at least 3 more mysteries to chase down, but I'll save them for another time.  Since it appears that the earlier generations of my family have squeezed all of the exciting (read dramatic) genes out of our blood line, I'm off to pack up leftover tuna casserole for Mr. Right and I for lunch tomorrow.  What can I say, it's my fate!