Dear Son,
I’m writing this slow ’cause I know you can’t read fast. We don’t live where we did when you first left. Your Dad read in the paper that most accidents happen within 20 miles of home, so we moved. I won’t be able to send you the address as the last family here took the numbers with them for their next house, so they wouldn’t have to change their address. This place has a washing machine. The first day I put four shirts in, pulled the chain, and I haven’t seen ’em since. It only rained twice this week, three days the first time and four days this time. The coat you wanted me to send you, your Aunt Sue sid it would be a little too heavy to send in the mail with the heavy buttons, so we cut them off and put them in the pockets. About your sister, she had a baby this morning. I haven’t found out whether it’s a girl or a boy, so I don’t know if you are an Aunt or and Uncle. Not much more news this time, write soon.
Love, Mom
P.S. Was going to send you money, but the envelope was already sealed.