My dear and loving son John.
Your good friend the schoolmaster, Pat McNamara, so good as to write these words down.
Your brothers have all gone to find work in England. The house is so empty and sad. The crop of potatoes was sorely infected, third to a half of them bad. And your sister Bridgid and Patrick O'Donnell are going to married in June. Mother says not to work on the railroad, and be sure to come on home soon.

Kilkelly, Ireland.
Eighteen and Seventy.

My dear and loving son John.
Hello to your missus and to your four children, may they grow healthy and strong.
Michael's got himself in a wee bit of *trouble, I suppose he never will learn.
Because of the dampness there's no turf to speak of, and now we've got nothin' to burn.
Bridged is happy you named the child for her, although she's got six of her own.
You say you've found work but you don't say what kind.
When will you be coming home?

Kilkelly, Ireland.
Eighteen and Eighty.

Dear Michael and John, my sons.
I'm sorry to give you the very sad news, your dear old mother has gone.
We buried her down at the church in Kilkelly. Your brothers and Bridgid were there. You don't have to worry, she died very quickly, remember her in your prayers.
And it's so good to hear that Michael's returning, with money he's sure to buy land. The crop has been poor, and the people are selling; any price that they can.

Kilkelly, Ireland.
Eighteen and Ninety.

My dear and loving son John.
I suppose that I must be close on eighty, it's thirty years since you've gone.
Because of all of the money you sent me I'm still living out on my own. Michael has built himself a fine house, and Bridgid's daughters are grown.
And thank you for sending your family picture, the lovely young women and men.
They say that you might even come for a visit. What joy to see you again.

Kilkelly, Ireland.
Eighteen and Ninety Two.

My dear brother John.
I'm sorry I didn't write sooner to tell you. Father passed on.
He was living with Bridgid, she says he was cheerful and healthy right down to the end. Ah, you should have seen him playing with the grandchildren and Pat McNamara - your friend.
[And we buried him alongside of mother, down at Kilkelly church yard. He was a strong and a feisty old man, considering his life was so hard.]
And its funny the way he kept talking about you, he called for you at the end. Why don't you think about coming to visit? We'd all love to see you again.