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My Dad brought the newspaper home with him every day. On Sundays, he would drive over to the QT and pick up the Sunday paper before church. Only when church service was over and the family had eaten Sunday dinner, would he then retire to his recliner to read the Sunday paper. If I retain one memory of my Dad it will probably be the one of him sitting in his recliner, surrounded by the Sunday paper. As he'd finish a section, he'd hand it over to Mom who would be sitting in her recliner and she'd read bits of it before passing it on to me. When I was small, I would sit on Dad's lap and he would read the comics to me. When I was taller, I would lean over his shoulder and read the comics with him. Then, when I reached my teens and I considered myself to be too mature to lean over Dad's chair to read the comics, Dad would hand me the comics and say things like "You've got to read Marmaduke today. He's really funny." or "Check out Mother Goose. It will make you giggle." He was always right. 

A few weekends ago, Michael and I were sitting at a booth in a restaurant waiting for our food to be delivered when Michael mentioned something about John Oliver's list. One thing John Oliver said in that episode that was not on that list was to invest in reliable news sources. He recommended getting a subscription to the New York Times or the Washington Post. Michael said he had been thinking that maybe we should get a subscription to the New York Times and I said that I had been thinking the very same thing. So while we waited for food, we did some research on the different kinds of NY Times subscriptions and decided on the Sunday edition. We get a print paper on Sundays and online access to all articles. The first one arrived yesterday.

I got up early Sunday morning and started the coffee maker before I peeped out the front door window. There was our paper, resting in a plastic bag at the end of our drive. I put a coat on over my pajamas and pulled on my slippers. Then I walked down our long driveway to retrieve our Sunday paper. I couldn't help but smile as I walked back up the drive, plastic bag in hand so that the paper swayed back in forth as I trudged up the hill. Once inside, I poured myself a cup of coffee, turned on the TV for CBS Sunday Morning and opened up our Sunday paper. And suddenly, my Sunday morning became a moment not unlike my Saturday mornings when I sit down at Heirloom with my Fortune Cookie journal. I read the front page article on Fidel Castro. I read the article about Tao Porchon-Lynch, the world's oldest yoga teacher I've talked about recently. I read about the come back of musicals with the help of movies like La La Land. I also read two great opinion pieces on the theater's involvement with politics and the relationship between cast and audience in response to Brandon Victor Dixon's message to V.P. Elect Pence.

I didn't finish reading everything. I left the things read in one pile for Michael and still have the travel section and bits of others to get through. I didn't get to the comics or the Sudoku puzzle. Michael started on the crossword puzzle last night. He's been reading articles online since we got our subscription. It's safe to say that we're both pleased at punch with our subscription. But as I sat on the couch with my Sunday paper spread out all around my,  I saw my Dad, sitting in his recliner surrounded by newspaper.