Holiday letter
Dear darling son and that person you married,
Happy Chanukah to you both, 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 ailing mother. I’ve sent along my last 10 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. I put them in the freezer so they’ll stay fresh for my grave. Which I might be ready for any day now. It’s so cold here since they turned off my heat, although I am grateful for one thing: I had to beat off some muggers last week, so at least the frost on my bed numbs the constant pain.
Now don’t you even think about sending any 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 what’s-her-name — the one with the black roots who stole you screaming from my bosom.
Happy Chanukah,
Your loving mother