Contributing writer
I love a mystery. Don’t you? When my son was quite young, he would take his supper plate, go sit by the radio, and listen to the play “I Love a Mystery.” He would get as close as he could to the radio.
I remember going to a restaurant that had a mystery play along with dinner. If you guessed who the villain was, you would win a prize.
Now here is a mystery. My daughter, Wanda, who lives in Colorado Springs, had a call from her friend, Kaye, who lives near Vale. She said she had a letter addressed to Wanda in her mailbox. Now, how could that be that it ended up in the mailbox of a friend with all the mailboxes in that area? Spooky!
I have loved all the Christmas cards mailed to me. Some contained letters telling of family news or family pictures. It was fun to see how the younger children have changed. I can still name my great-great-granchildren. Some of my progeny are in the cradle, some are in college, and some are married and have children.
My paternal grandmother lived in to be in her 90s and had 90-plus decendents. My sister told me that if she couldn’t remember names she would call them “Honey,” which seemed to work.
However in these days, there are divorces, re-marriages, and famillies do get mixed up. Some years ago, I went to a nephew’s wedding in California. You not only had to keep the parents straight, but the grandparents, too.