This is a long one, so I’ll start with a TLDR - grand-uncle dies in military plane crash of B-29 Superfortress over Florida in 1945 between the two atomic bombs dropping. Grand-nephew finds his son 70 years later, attends the wedding of grand-uncle’s grand-daughter, wakes up late, and randomly winds up sitting behind a woman with a giant tattoo of a B-29 Superfortress. When I was growing up, we called my father‘s grandmother “Nanny.