This QaR was originally posted the day after my 46th birthday, my second out here in Arizona.

I asked my mom yesterday about this.  Here is the story.

My grandmother, whom we affectionately call Mimi, was attending dance class at a local school in Detroit, MI.  She was 20 years of age.  Her brother, my great uncle Gordon, was having a party on Saturday with some of his friends from the neighborhood.  As Mimi arrived home, she noticed the party was in progress.  So she went upstairs, changed out of her dance clothes, and joined the party.

A young man named Fred saw this pretty Irish girl and he started talking to her.  This conversation went on for quite a while.  Near the end of the party, he did something rather forward.  He asked her if he could drive her home, which was the custom of young men to demonstrate their interest in a young lady.  Mimi responded, "This is my home."  Fred was surprised since Gordon had never mentioned his sister to him.  They both started laughing.

Three years later, on a beautiful August afternoon, they became married.

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.