Every blogger on earth probably has some reflection today on the passing of America's 40th President. Far be it from me to exclude myself from the flood of commentary.
The fact is, I never liked the Reagans. I thought the U.S. First Lady was a superficial, clueless caricature that made the Stepford Wives look like Eleanor Roosevelt. "President" Reagan was unfit for the job, he stood for everything I found objectionable, and I disliked him intensely. I choke on the new appellation of Washington's National Airport, as I consider naming an aviation facility after the man who fired striking air traffic controllers to be on par with naming a coal processing facility after Margaret Thatcher. One would just as soon name a day care center after Timothy McVeigh.
But -- and there's always a "but" -- I lost someone I loved more than life itself to Alzheimer's a few years ago. I was very close to my grandmother and namesake. She had travelled all over the world (in part, no doubt, inspiring my career choice) and led a good, full, satisfying life that on the whole would be the envy of most people. I always said that Saint Peter was going to have drag her kicking and screaming through the Pearly Gates. Her love was one of the greatest gifts of my life. Her family was everything to her - even when she could no longer tell us apart. Losing her by inches over a period of years was excruciating. Watching her watch, uncomprehending and increasingly helpless, as her world shrank around her was a torture that even a year in Abu Gharib prison could not top.
I wouldn't wish a death via Alzheimer's on anyone. It took five years for the disease to claim my grandmother. Reagan lasted more than ten. God help me, I can actually empathize with Nancy Reagan today. If you had asked my adolescent self twenty (gulp) years ago if I ever believed that would be possible, I would have said no. I don't give myself any credit for being more mature now. I just know what it is to mourn and to feel tremendous relief at the same time. My heart goes out to her.