Nancy with the laughing face

Why does it take death to bring us together? Why not life?

Watching Nancy Reagan’s funeral on television, the front-row tableau was a picture of unity, in form, if not in substance. There were Democrats and Republicans side by side: California Gov. Jerry Brown, first lady Michelle Obama, former President George W. Bush, former first lady Laura Bush, Democratic presidential front-runner Hillary Clinton, former first lady Rosalyn Carter, and former first family member Caroline Kennedy. They sat together in common purpose, if not on common ground.

Former ABC News anchor Diane Sawyer observed this about Mrs. Reagan: “Unlike so many people these days, she never seemed to harden differences into definitions. She was way too interested in people and who you really were and what you really were and what you really knew.” What a contrast to what passes for political dialogue today, which is too often crass, injurious, and mean. And defining. And hardening.

If we look on the beauty of such moments—and we should as on a glorious spring day—why can’t we have political discourse that is—to borrow a phrase from Ronald Reagan’s successor, George H.W. Bush—kinder and gentler?

Largely it is because the quest for power and influence over others is born of lust, and lust rarely leads to much that is good, more often it leads to self-destruction.

Former Reagan Chief of Staff James Baker spoke of the lifelong romance between Ronald and Nancy, noting that Nancy kept all of her husband’s many love letters in a paper bag in a closet. He kept her in his heart wherever he was and whatever he was doing.

At funerals we forget all of the mean things some of us say about each other. “Don’t speak ill of the dead” is one familiar admonition. How about not speaking ill of the living, or at least refrain from questioning motives, character, and patriotism? We can and should debate the wisdom of policies, but not the love any of us have for America. What would our politics look like if we adopted such an attitude not just at funerals but throughout life?

Yes, I know, it’s too much to expect. It wasn’t long before many of those at the funeral who are still politically active were back at it and at each other. But for one brief, shining moment, we saw what America looks like when we speak and act well of one another.

It is something beautiful, something good.

I wonder how we might behave if we thought of our own funerals, which await all of us? Would we be kinder to those who might speak at our service? What would we want them to think and say about us? If it is nice things, what are we doing now to improve the chances that their remarks and thoughts will be pleasant?

In one of Frank Sinatra’s most famous songs, the lyric could have been written by “Ronnie” to his “Nancy”:

If I don’t see her each day, I miss her Gee what a thrill, each time I kiss her Believe me, I’ve got a case On Nancy with the laughing face. She takes the winter and makes it summer Summer could take some lessons from her Picture a tomboy in lace That’s Nancy with the laughing face.

© 2016 Tribune Content Agency LLC.

Listen to Cal Thomas’ commentary on The World and Everything in It.