My mother, as a girl, was your typical overachiever. Straight A student. Never got into any trouble. Went to church every Sunday and was on every church board. Basically, any parents dream child. She always did what she was told, what was expected of her, and this travelled all the way through into her adulthood.
Also, she was very beautiful: having long dark brown hair and eyes as blue and clear as ice crystals. Taller than the average female, about five foot nine, and had a voice that could charm anyone to her will while also being intensely venomous when needed. There isn’t much about her before-college years that would make her stand out amongst the rest other than her brilliance. In all things human. No shock that she went on to be one of the most successful psychological, therapists of her age.
She probably over-loved herself into success with an infectious love for life that most normal people are drawn to while still desperately seeking escape from. Always punctual, never missed a day of class when in college. There was even one incident where she was so sick with the flu and refused to leave class. Security actually had to haul her out and risk infection. And she fought them the whole way out shouting how nothing could keep her from the betterment of her life through knowledge. And of course saying a few prayers that God would force these demons to release her: both the flu and the security guards. Low and behold, she was good as new in two days with no lingering symptoms like normal people. Further cementing her belief that God is a miracle worker while simultaneously forgetting about all the antibiotics and vitamins she had been pumping into herself for days.
The type of woman who can break down the reasoning behind someone else’s reasoning and reveal things about themselves they didn’t know. Who thought everything was a praying event. Eating. Waking up. Exams. Love. Relationships. Buying a new car. Passing a test. And should she actually fail something in life, a prayer that she will learn the lesson God set before her via this failure. Oh and of course breathing. When all else failed, which rarely happened, she could always pray for life and the usual thankful for feet to walk on type stuff.
If it wasn’t some campaign to help aid children with mental instability, it was Christian bowling, and Christian movies. You know the type: clichéd plots where God solves everything in the end. With very little depth, plots are always about losing your way and focusing on things other than God. Shit loads of contemporary worship music designed for youth and sung by young adults. And very sub-par acting because digging deep into the depths of drama must be Satan’s work or something. Oh and the gospel campfires where you tell parables (same as fables but different name because they’re the Christian variety). And prayer sit-ins. One of her favourites. Where you just stay up all night praying for all of mankind or whatever.
It was one of these sit-ins that lead to the next chapter in her life. But that I’ll talk about later. She was against all things hate, like racism discrimination, and the like. And well I’m done. There’s no more ways I can say that when it came to being an upstanding citizen of planet earth, she was shooting for a perfect 11 out of ten. The woman could do no wrong–or so it seemed.
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