I was cleaning out the garage today and found a copy of a letter my mom sent me in college–she sent me a copy, she didn’t write it 😉
Just a few lines to let you know that I am still alive. I’m
writing this letter slowly because I know that you cannot read fast.
You won’t know the house when you come home . . we’ve moved.
About your father . . . he has a lovely new job. He has 500
men under him. He is cutting grass at the cemetery.
There was a washing machine in the new house when we moved in,
but it isn’t working too good. Last week I put 14 shirts into it,
pulled the chain, and I haven’t seen the shirts since.
Your sister Mary had a baby this morning. I haven’t found out
whether it is a boy or girl, so I don’t know whether you are an aunt
Your uncle Dick drowned last week in a vat of whiskey in Dublin
Brewery. Some of his workmates dived in to save him, but he fought
them off bravely. We cremated his body, and it took three days to
put out the fire.
Your father didn’t have much to drink at Christmas. I put a
bottle of castor oil in his pint of beer. It kept him going until
New Years Day. I went to the doctor on Thrusday and your father came
with me. The doctor put a small tube into my mouth and told me not
to open it for ten minutes. Your father offered to buy it from him.
It only rained twice last week. First for three days, and then
for four days. Monday it was so windy that one of our chickens laid
the same egg four times.
We had a letter yesterday from the undertaker. He said if the
last installment wasn’t paid on your grandmother within 7 days, up
Your loving mother,
P.S. I was going to send you $10.00 but I had already sealed the