My mother and I have never really clicked. In fact, that could be the understatement of the century. But I accept it. It's what I've become used to. What I cannot tolerate, however, is her sympathy. Her 'pity' for my godlessness. It's the condescending, 'Oh, sweetheart, you'll see someday. You'll get over this radical collegiate phase,' It's that, 'Bless your soul. I'll pray that you find the tru…