It's a little too ironic

Just about two weeks ago, my Grandma's house burned down. No one was home in the duplex at the time, so reasons for the fire are yet unknown. My Grandma sold the house almost two years ago to move into assisted living, but for me, it was still hers.
Today I got my first copy of the Renville County Register, the local newpaper of my hometown. On the front page was a picture of the house, that I remember being built, ablaze. I remember my Grandpa walking around the house checking the progress of the home being built still just a frame of 2x4's. That was somewhere around the summer of 1986 (?). I have lots of memories of their home; of Christmases, cardplaying, sitting on the patio, meals, games, and family. Always full of happiness, always a popsicle in the garage freezer, always a can of pop in the fridge, always an enjoyable place to be, that was Grandma and Grandpa's house.
So, where is the irony? The reason I have the subscription is because it was my Grandma's subscription. Rather than my parents getting two a week, my dad had the address switched and it's now sent to me.
I'll be having a glass of wine for Grandma tonight.