Dear Uncle Neldatir,
I feel strange writing this letter to you, but I had to do something. We finally found your grave, after months of searching. I dug you up while Mother hissed at me to hurry. When I finally opened up your coffin, Mother jumped in and tore the necklace from your neck. She yelled at you and cursed your name for an hour. Sorry about the spittle; I wiped it off as best I could later.
Not sure who buried you the first time, but they did a good job. Mother wouldn't let me re-bury you. She said you didn't deserve it. I tossed a couple shovels of dirt onto you before she yelled at me to stop. She didn't see me leave this note.
Don't haunt me from the afterlife, please. Haunt Mother instead.
Rest in peace, Uncle Neldatir.
Your loving nephew,