This is a reflective time of year for me. My father, Ronald Reagan, died in June 2004, and each year I let myself drift into whatever realm my thoughts and memories lead me to. Sometimes it’s about who he was as a father — magical when I was a small child, but elusive and a bit awkward as I grew up.
This year I have found myself reflecting on who he was as America’s parent — not in a political framework, but as a human being. I’ve thought about how baffled he would be at the language and the statements that bellow out of the current White House. I can imagine his eyes…
