Letter from a Jewish mom:
Dear Darling Son and that person you Married,
Happy New Year and please don't worry. I'm just fine considering I can't breathe or eat. The important thing is that you have a nice holiday, thousands of miles away from your Mother. I've sent along my last ten
dollars in this card, which I hope you'll spend on my grandchildren, God knows their
Mother never buys them anything nice. They look so thin in their pictures,poor babies. Thank you so much for the birthday flowers, dear boy, I put them
in the freezer so they'll stay fresh for my grave.
Which reminds me we buried Bubbie last week. I know she died years ago, but I got to yearning for a good funeral so Aunt Bertha and I dug her up and had
the service all over again. I would have invited you, but I know that woman
that you live with would have never let you come.. I bet she's never even watched that videotape of my hemorrhoid surgery, has she? Well, son, it's time for me to crawl off to bed now, I lost my cane beating off muggers last week, but don't you worry about me. I'm also getting used to
the cold since they turned my heat off and I'm grateful because the frost on my bed numbs the constant pain. Now, don't you even think about sending any
more money, because I know you need it for those expensive family vacations you take every year.
Give my love to my darling grandbabies and my regards to
whatever-her-name-is-the one with the black roots in her hair who stole you
screaming from my bosom.
L'Shana Tova,
Your Mamma |
