Letter from a West Virginia mother to her West Virginia 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 where most accidents happen within twenty-five miles of home, so we packed up and moved. I won't be able to send you the address because the last family that lived here took the numbers with them for their next house so that they won't have to change their address.
​This place has a washing machine. The first day I put four shirts in and pulled the chain. I have not seen them since. It only rained twice this week, three days the first time, four days the second time.
The coat you wanted me to send you, your Aunt Sue said it would be a little too heavy to send it in the mail with them heavy buttons, so we cut them off and put them in the pockets.
We got a bill from the funeral home. They said if we didn't make the last payment on Grandma's funeral, up she comes.
About your father, he has a lovely new job. He has over 500 people under him. He cuts grass at the cemetery.
About your sister, she had a baby this morning. I haven't found out yet if you are an Aunt or Uncle.
​Three of your friends went off the bridge in a pickup. One was driving, the other two were in the back. The driver got out, he rolled the window down and swam to safety. The other two drowned. They couldn't the tailgate down.
Your Uncle John fell in the Whiskey vat. Some men tried to pull him out, but he fought them off so he drowned. We cremated him. He burned for three days.
Not much more news this time. Nothing much happened. Write more often.
Love,
Mom
​P.S I was going to send you some money, but the envelope was already closed.