Mrs. Reagan

I watched the coverage last night as the body of President Reagan was brought in to the capital to lie in state. I heard somewhere that President Lincoln was the first president to have that honor, and that President Reagan’s casket has been placed in the same spot, on the same platform that was used for Mr. Lincoln. And as I wathced all the ceremonial protocols playing out I couldn’t help but think how good we Americans have gotten at this. We have our traditions, we have our history, we have OUR way and it is a solemn, emotional and yet an awesome thing we do to honor our leaders, our heroes and our dead.

The hero yesterday of course was Mrs. Reagan. She looked like a dignified queen, a gracious lady. It was hard to believe she is almost 83 years old herself. She doesn’t carry herself that way. She reminded me so much of Jacqueline Kennedy in similar circumstances. Both pictures of grace in grief.

After the end of the ceremonies and the speeches, Mrs. Reagan went up to touch the casket. She stroked it lovingly and I got the image of the years she must have spent smoothing lapels, brushing lint off of sweaters, just touching the chest of her husband of all those years. It wasn’t ceremonial or planned. It was common and familiar in a good way, in a wife-touches-her-beloved-husband kind of way. It was beautiful.

When Mr. Pete came home last night after doing his extra pick up job I gave him a hug – a little longer than usual though.

I’m going to watch the funeral tomorrow. I’m MAKING my kids watch it too. They’ll thank me later.

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