My Women's History Month memorial would not be complete without honoring my mama.
Yes. My mother is a clown.
Just before she turned 70, Mom decided to fulfill some of her life-long dreams. Becoming a clown was one of those dreams. (So was a hot-air balloon ride, which she did on her 70th birthday. I swear, the whole county of Kalamazoo heard her screaming and giddy laughter.)
I found a local clown school and signed Mom up. Six weeks later, she graduated. Top of her class.
She took on a clown name: QT Pie. Fits, doesn't it.
Thanks, Mom. For being such an inspiration. For learning how to paint at 76. For being so excited about your new car. For experimenting with interior decorating. For your years of being a nurse. For kicking me out of the nest all those years ago, even when it broke your heart. For being living proof that age makes no difference when it comes to dreams or a love of life. For continuing to stretch yourself and learn and adventure and being involved. I can't keep up with you: the volunteer work, taking care of Dad, canoeing down rivers and camping with the grandkids.
I love you, Mom. You are my woman's history hero.