My father was a circus clown for many years. He was also a medic in the military, saved and helped many people, and never met a stranger he couldn’t make a friend. I’ve struggled all my life to find ways to make others both laugh and think, occasionally at the same time. When my father died, we cremated him and as he wished, I scattered his ashes in a forest he loved. As I did so, a tiny gust of wind snuck up on me and I accidentally inhaled a bit of my fathers cremated remains. Since then, he lives in me.