Dear Son,...

Dear Son,


I am writing this slow cause I know you can't read fast. We don't live where we did when you left. Your dad read in the paper that most accidents happened within 20 miles of home, so we moved. I won't be able to send you the address cause the last family that lived here took
the numbers with them for their next house so they won't have to change their address. Wish I had thought of that.


This place has a small washing machine. The first day I put four shirts in it, pulled the chain and haven't seen them since.


It only rained twice this week - three days the first time and four days the second.


The coat you wanted me to send you; your aunt Sue said it would be a little too heavy to send in the mail with them heavy buttons, so we cut them off and put them in the pockets. Don't tell anyone.


We got a bill from the funeral home, said we didn't make the last payment on Grandma's funeral bill; up she comes. Lucky we have a spare bedroom in the new place. We can move her when you come to visit.


About your father - he has a lovely new job. He has over 500 people under him; he is cutting grass at the cemetary.


Your sister had a baby this morning. I haven't found out if it was a boy or a girl, so I don't know if you are an aunt or an uncle.


Three of your friends went off the bridge in a pickup truck. One was driving and the other two were in the back bed. The driver got out - he rolled down the window and swam to safety. The other two drowned; they couldn't get the tailgate down.


Your uncle Mike fell in the whiskey vat at work. Some men tried to pull hem out but he fought them off and drowned. He wanted to be cremated, burned for three days.


Not much more news at this time, nothing much happened. Write more often.


Love,
Mom from somewhere in West Virginia


P.S. I was going to send money but the envelope was already sealed.