I’m not sure when it started, “it” being the Investigator in me. Regardless, it did start and it took off like wildfire.

I mean it was the Perfect Storm.

1. A mischievous child, often referred to as a devilish sweetheart.

2. Secrets, my parents had lots of secrets.

So, it went like this:

I went to Ralph’s to buy a chicken, but really, starting at a young age, I went to the corners of Mom’s closets to find the truth. I also went to the bottom of drawers, car trunks, big suspicious vases, mail, filing cabinets and back to the closets and drawers. Under beds, under mattresses and inside shoes.

Starting at age 14, I was sent to Texas in the summers, the hot ass summers, to visit my Dad and his wife. The method was a little different. Once Dad and my DW (Dad’s Wife) had left for work, it was me, myself and I all alone in their house. 8 HOURS ALONE. An investigators paradise! My paradise!

That’s when I found the attic! Yes, the attic filled with boxes, lots of boxes! Now the best boxes to start with were the ones that were taped up and marked “Confidential.” Oh, those held treasures! Tax returns to scandalous cards and letters of love that were written long before the ink had dried on my parents divorce decree. Old brief cases also held many clues. They looked inconspicuous. Just some old beat up brief cases leaning against some wall, but inside these cases was valuable information. Usually the code to get into these brief cases or beat up luggages (yes those too) was 111. But if it was a different code, I could crack it! I know how a pirate must feel when they find treasure! I was a little pirate!

Now there were other types of snooping. I am not a fan of that word, so I am going to use investigating from this point forward.

1. There was the investigating that was assigned to me by Mom: “Now my beautiful sweetheart, when you’re at your Father’s, I need you to go through the Nazi Spy’s medicine cabinet and write down all the prescriptions she takes, you bring that home to Mama okay my perfect daughter.”

So that is the investigating where you report back to an authority figure. I’ll call that “Instructed Investigating.” Oh, and for reference, “Nazi Spy” was what my Mom called my DW.

2. There was also the “I’m just a brat investigator.” That included reading my best friend’ Jaynie’s diary when we were 10 years old. And I read every entry.

This was not an easy feat. First, you had to find the diary. Second, I had to be alone in her room. Third, I had to find the tiny key to open her diary.

I slipped her diary in the back of my pants and mossied on over to the bathroom. There, I would read the goods! One of my favorite entries Jaynie wrote, at age 10 mind you, was to her future daughter Crystal. It started with “Dear Crystal, Mama loves you more than you can imagine…” Of course I reported it all back to Jaynie and the other kids that day. She eventually forgave me.

Now back to the important stuff.

I have discovered that there are two ways to rifle through someone’s belongings.

1.The kind where the owner of the goods is in the vicinity. So, one must be fast, stay alert and highly focused. Oh, it’s a constant rush No time to waste.

2. You are alone and have plenty of time to fish around.

In my experience, the first type provides the feeling of being on a rollercoaster. A big rollercoaster. We are talking fast and furious with quick shots that provide an adrenaline rush. Once you arrive, it’s an abrupt stop, You find the truth.

The second type is a slow steady pace. It often includes sitting on the floor in the Crisscross Applesauce position, and taking your sweet time to go through things.This one is similar to enjoying a wonderful meal where you savor every bite. It is slow and de li cious.

Since I am talking about my childhood investigations I’d like to mention some fun finds! The one where my little brain went:

Paydirt!

Bingo!

Am I adopted?

Dad has a girlfriend?

Mom was in Egypt?

The following are some savory pieces of evidence I found.

1. My birth certificate. Yes, the real one. The one with an official seal that said I was born On March 15th, 1968 Not the flimsy one that said November 23rd, 1967. I found the one that revealed the truth. I am a Pisces, Not a Sagittarius. I am a Monkey not a Sheep. Oh and all those birthday cards I would receive in March, that they said arrived late in the mail, that was also a lie!

This one also required follow up questions with my parents and since the document was not buried in a drawer, but found in a baby book in the cupboard, it felt okay to ask. Yes, to ask: “When is my birthday really and am I adopted?

Further questioning led to my parent’s confession: “You were into everything, we needed a break, so we said you were older to get you into school early.” March 15th is the real day. This investigation is CLOSED.

2. Mom’s divorce decree from a prior marriage. This finding also required immediate action.

At 10 years old I found my Mom’s divorce certificate in a drawer, under piles of underwear, in a small box with papers piled on top. Wait, the decree said Mom was married to a man named Norman? My Dad’s name is Bob. Maybe I really am adopted? Maybe this man is my Father. I mean they lied about my birthday… the trust had been broken.

This Finding required immediate action with a call to my Mom who was at work. Although I did snoop, I mean investigate, the matter was urgent. I need to know: Bob or Norman.

Mom answered the phone: “Ask Mr Foster Travel this is Veronica.” I burst into tears sobbing “why didn’t you tell me you were married to a Norman, who is he and is he my Father,”

Mom calmly explained that she was with clients “My love, Mama will discuss with you when I get home,”. “No”, I sobbed, I need to know the truth, NOW.” “Give Mama a few minutes and I’ll call you back.” Shortly after, she did call back. I answered in desperation. Mom explained that when she was 18, she married a man named Norman. She realized a few years later, she wanted more out of life, and she got a divorce. Your Father is your Father Corinne, you both even have the same nose and feet.” Seemed honest and straight forward. Case CLOSED.

Although those cases were closed it started something that I am only beginning to share… More will be disclosed at a later date.

CR