I married my father

Left is a picture of my husband Alan with our latest grandchild -- Elliana. On the right is a picture of my father practicing the piano in the backroom of the church he pastored for 50 plus years

It occurred to me today that I was told a long time ago that I married my father. Well, today confirmed that.

My father used to carry a cloth bag with him wherever he went. Today, and recently, Alan has taken up that pasttime. If he goes to the car, he carries a bag. If he gets out of the car, he carries a bag. Now, I'm not saying the bag isn't useful. I use my hands, Alan and my father used a bag. I carry the mail in my hands, no bag required, even for bigger loads. Alan now uses a bag to do that.

Just a short remembrance of my father, who when we cleared out his home must have had around 50 of these cloth bags that he had collected from the local and not-so-local banks and stores and freebies in the mail. Alan's on his way toward such a collection. On my!