Dearest Son
I'm writing this slow because I know you can't read fast.
We don't live where we did when you left home. Your dad read in
the newspaper that most accidents happen within 20 miles from
your home, so we moved.
I won't be able to send you the address because the last
family that lived here took the house numbers when they
moved so that they wouldn't have to change their address.
This place is really nice. It even has a washing machine.
I'm not sure it works so well though. Last week I put a load of
clothes in and pulled the chain...we haven't seen them since.
The weather isn't bad here. It only rained twice last
week; the first time for three days and the second time for four
days.
About that coat you wanted me to send you, your Uncle
Stanley said it would be too heavy to send in the mail with the
buttons on, so we cut them off and put them in the pockets.
John locked his keys in the car yesterday. We were
really worried because it took him two hours to get me and your
father out.
Your sister had a baby this morning, but I haven't found
out what it is yet so I don't know if you're an aunt or an uncle.
The baby looks just like your brother.
Uncle Ted fell in a whisky vat last week. Some men tried
to pull him out, but he fought them off playfully and drowned.
We had him cremated and he burned for three days.
Three of your friends went off a bridge in a pickup
truck. Ralph was driving. He rolled down the window and swam
to safety. Your other two friends were in back. They drowned
because they couldn't get the tailgate down.
There isn't much more news at this time. Nothing much
out of the normal has happened.
Love, Mom
