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You Only Get One Mother

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I hate to meddle. Actually, I love to meddle. You have no business being a writer if you don’t love to snoop, meddle and get people to reveal the awful truth.

That’s why I’m wondering why Patti Davis, the First Wayward Daughter, hasn’t spoken to her parents in more than a year. I don’t know Patti, and I’ll bet if I call her up she won’t tell me. I didn’t bother to read her book. And I’ll bet she didn’t read mine.

But Patti, just between the two of us, what did Ronnie and Nancy do to you? The Reagans’ great success was that regardless of what went wrong in the Administration--scandals, indictments, betrayal--they were always able to persuade everyone that it wasn’t their fault. On the personal level--which is where most of us live--they always came across as a stand-up guy and gal.

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There are a lot of people who have good reason not to speak to the Reagans. Anyone with an income under $50K may not be thrilled with their politics. I’m not thrilled with their politics. I’m not speaking to them. But then I never did, and besides they’re not my mommy and daddy.

Since there’s no suggestion of physical abuse, what could they have done to prompt this kind of stubbornness? Maybe they performed a little psychological abuse, but what would childhood be without psychological abuse--if not at home, then at school. It’s meant to toughen you up for the routine abuse that is adult life.

Speaking as a mom, we all try to do our best, but inevitably we are imperfect. Once, during a fight, my own darling daughter said to me, “You think you’re so great because you’re a writer. Someday I’m going to write a book about you called ‘(Expletive Deleted) Dearest.’ ”

I understand family feuds. My only sister and I have had years when we didn’t speak to each other. We’ve had decades when we didn’t say a civil word to each other. But now that she’s all that’s left of my family, I treasure her. Who else knows the secret language of our childhood--those weird names we gave to our toys, our parents, our anatomical parts. Only my sister knows what a sigalawinkie is. My editor doesn’t know it or he wouldn’t let me write it in this paper.

Patti, I remember seeing you interviewed on TV talking about how much you admire Jane Fonda. Fonda, the good mother--that must really stick in Nancy’s craw. You got her good with that one. But the truth is that I, too, admire Jane Fonda. Not because she can act. Not because she’s beaten her thighs into billions. But because, despite her own lousy childhood, she’s managed to keep her family together.

It’s true that a lot of people including myself have seen Nancy Reagan’s faults. You may not be able to remember that while Jackie Kennedy was queen, people criticized her and made fun of her mercilessly. It was only when she became the world’s greatest single mom that she earned our respect.

I rebelled against my mother for about 30 years. Fortunately, we made our peace before she died. It’s a lot easier to work things out from this side of the Undiscovered Land than it is after they are gone. I still miss her, though. Not a day goes by without my wishing that I still had that woman around to fight with.

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Look, Patti, Nancy’s coming soon to a town near you. She’s making things easy for you. She even had the address on the new place officially changed from 666 St. Cloud to 668. She’s not the Antichrist. She’s only mom.

P.D.--phone home.

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