My dear child,
Just a few lines to let you know I’m still alive. I’m writing this letter slowly as I remember you can’t read fast. You won’t know the house when you come home. We’ve moved.
Your father has a lovely new job with 300 men under him. He cuts the grass at the cemetery.
There’s a washing machine in our new house but it isn’t working too well. I put fourteen shirts into it, pulled the chain, and I haven’t seen the shirts since.
Your sister Jenny had a baby last week. I haven’t found out if it’s a boy or a girl yet so I don’t know if you’re an uncle or auntie.
I went to the doctor two days ago and your father came with me. The doctor put a tube in my mouth and told me not to open it for ten minutes, then your father offered to buy it from him.
We had a letter from the undertaker. He said if we don’t pay the final installment on your granny, up she comes.
Your loving Mom.
P.S. I was going to send you some money, but I already sealed the envelope.