By Simone Butler In one of my earliest memories, my mother and I are bent over the nubby brown living room carpet, painstakingly picking up crayons. I scream as she forces me, her hand clasped over mine, to keep my of putting away my toys–no how long it takes. Mom was a . Though caring and gentle, she was a stickler for order. As the Sun moved into her sign this week, I in…