Photo by Ani Babayan
Ronald Reagan — To me, he is one of the people whose life is so much inspiring and whose love breathes so much hope in the worn out inches of one’s heart, that it gives hope there still exists true love — love that respects, cares, trusts and all that it wants is to see and make you happy.
Love that will not lie in your eyes, that will not cheat on you, will never ignore you, or make you feel subordinate,,, love that will never drag you from hair or try to pull you down, love that will never spit in your face in the direct meaning of this word, love that will be thankful, love that will be tolerable to you and love that will be so much fascinated by you that it will never be ashamed to publicly show it, and will, first of all, let you know and feel about your being one in a billion…
The first time I got to know Ronald Reagan as a person possessing huge “wisdom on life” was when I read his striking letter to his son, from which I myself have drawn lots of lessons. Going on, I have read things about him time and again, and it’s time to share some of his letters to his wife.
Having suffered from the disease with which I myself will in all likelihood, be afflicted one day as well, this person who worthily and honorably held the greatest title the representatives of the male gender should aspire for — the title of “man” — has been a hopeless romantic and an envious better half. In more than 40 years of letters, — sometimes written from just across the same room — Ronald Reagan revealed his abiding love to his wife, Nancy.
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Dear Mrs. Reagan,
And you are Mrs. Reagan because Mr. Reagan loves you with all his heart. Every time Mr. Reagan sees the evening star or blows out the birthday candles or gets the big end of the wishbone he thinks the same wish—a prayer really—that so much happiness will go on and somehow be deserved by him.
It is true sometimes that Mr. Reagan loses his temper and slams a door but that’s because he can’t cry or stamp his foot—(he isn’t really the type.) But mad or glad Mr. Reagan is head over heels in love with Mrs. Reagan and can’t even imagine a world without her—
He loves her
Mr. Reagan
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Ronald Reagan and his wife, Nancy
Dear Wife,
A few days ago you told me I was angry with you. I tried to explain I was frustrated with myself. But later on I realized that my frustration might have been a touch of self-pity because I’d been going around feeling that you are frequently angry with me.
No more. We are so much “one” that you are as vital to me as my own heart—with one exception; you could never be replaced with a transplant.
Whatever I treasure and enjoy—this home, our ranch, the sight of the sea—all would be without meaning if I didn’t have you. I live in a permanent Christmas because God gave me you. As I write this, you are hurrying by—back and forth doing those things only you can do and I get a feeling of warm happiness just watching you. That’s why I can’t pass you or let you pass me without reaching to touch you. (Except now or you would see what I’m doing.)
I’ll write no more because I’m going to catch up with you wherever you are and hold you for a moment.
Merry Christmas Darling—I love you with all my heart.
Your Husband
The letters were taken from NBCNews.com
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They truly could not bear to be apart. Ronald Reagan wrote countless letters to his wife, and Nancy left cards and love notes around for her husband to discover when she was away from him. In a letter to Nancy on their thirty-first wedding anniversary he wrote, “I more than love you, I’m not whole without you. You are life itself to me. When you are gone I’m waiting for you to return so I can start living again.”
And lastly, there is no song more beautiful than “Let it Be Me” that could thoroughly describe such everlasting love and there is no other singer than Elvis who could sing the wonderful lyrics of this everlasting love… Enjoy this song and… love (in the true meaning of this word), embrace your love and be loved in return…
Annieaga's Blog 
For me, nearly all girls I am seeing here and there make me feel jealous. God granted women with warmth, love, passion, loyalty to give who they said they loved. And all they had to do was to be real girl doing so to embrace happiness. But there was also the other, very scarce type, dishonest, fake, cruel, selfish, evil, demonic. This type, maybe only one I ever know even from distance, put into their net multiple guys and started to suck blood. Some obeyed and accepted, some obeyed, then realized, and some only came into conscience when it was too late and all was gone. And there stood one of them, empty, exhausted, living in darkness and anger and heard the-so-waited but never received voice, the so-longed-but never received embrace, the so desired but never delivered warmth and passion. And in the midst of darkness, total emptiness, madness and pain all he could hear was “I could do anything. Being the mistress of his life I could be his slave and serve him for the rest of my life.” And he understood one thing – never underestimate the immorality of the show off saints. They are the true evils. And the saint is the very average girl embracing her loved one every single day every single hour without the other one asking for it, longing for it or dreaming for it.
it’s interesting that some people might blame others for things they have written for someone else when they were yet not acquainted but refuse to take responsibility for what they engraved on their body while declaring love to at least two people at a time. human stupidity and selfishness must have entered a brand new level that spurs disgust.
Should I put the pattern of my heart picture it will be what I desire you would still love, even though it would not consist of anything novel. The very first power you possessed there, and the ultimate rule you have secured over it, does not leave a single corner not occupied.
pennyless words that will never erase the pain caused to people. the popular saying has it “actions speak louder than words” so i don’t care for what’s been said but rather for what’s been done. So the pattern of the heart if it were embraced with love should be demonstrating all kindness, caressness, tenderness, care and the rest of good things, while not for a day have these things been displayed. this world is not based on empty words but rather on actions undertaken and words unsaid.
Just two days since departed from you yet it seems as two long years away. But I can assert that no single minute parted without your name and pattern that has become such a devoted friend to my mind, the water and sustenance to my being and it will sure endure as the sole thought.
Every second I see myself recalling different words communicated to me, some on the lips, some on the paper, some in the air. The love, care and tenderness in these words. What keeps me going.
At this very moment, it is an immense thing to feel the unique breathing of your vast soul and of your wise eyes on the very paper that I have been gifted by you some time ago. And at this moment I sit silently to respond you in a melancholic manner yet the extraordinary height of love which brings us together, so entirely overpowers me, fills my inner depths with greatest fondness and calm towards the sole being that exists for my ruffled soul.
I probably do not reckon how to demonstrate the contradicting sentiments inside myself that scaled up as a hail across my soul all these lengthy minutes long. I just feel how the pioneer and most precious across entire my thinking has been the hint that you granted me of your love. Or maybe that was a mere hallucination. But I know I am more than willing, no, I am dying to spend a short life time to grasp that hallucination. What I feel towards you, is further than any human expression that may fit only a living love poem that I am unable to produce.