The Life Of Nancy Reagan

𝓡𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓮'𝓼 𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱

In his final days, all he wanted was for her to be by his side. Rarely speaking a word, only whenever she left the room. "Where's Nancy?" almost a second after she got up to go use the bathroom or do other things. He may not have remembered his friends, his children or his brother, but he always knew who she was. During his last days, she stayed by his side as much as she could, always holding onto his hand. His condition was to the point where he had to sleep in a hospital bed. She was the one afraid to sleep, knowing that his final breath drew nearer and nearer as the week went by. Often she would just lye awake in the recliner next to his bed, holding onto his hand and never letting go. Until that moment when the flame was about to go out. He had stopped talking, only giving signals of what he wanted, and it was his wife. Early on in their marriage, he had told her that she was the first thing that he wanted to see every morning, and the last thing he wanted to see before his journey on to the after life, and his wish was fulfilled in a way so movie like. Standing by his bed, still holding onto his hand, she talked to one of the nurses. He could go anytime he needed to finally be at peace. But he gave a slight squeeze to Nancys hand, jerking her attention quickly towards him. With a bittersweet smile, she gazed down at her husband. With a small motion of his freehand, she understood the message he was trying to make out. She leaned over the bed and gave him a final kiss. He slowly lifted his free hand up and stroked her cheek, with all the energy he had left in him. As he let go, she couldn't hold it back anymore. The tears started streaming down her cheeks as she slowly sat down in the chair next to the bed. He gave her a force stare. Ronnie wouldn't want her to cry, or at least not that much, but he needed her permission. "I love you, Honey. I love you.." She cried, holding onto his arm. His eyes dimmed, and in a small split second, the flame extinguished. Letting out a faint exhale, he settled back into his pillow, and died.
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The funeral had already been planned out. Everything from start to finish. The night of Ronnie's death, Nancy felt like she could sleep again. Only because she was emotionally and physically drained. She had asked for privacy from the press until the day of the funeral at the Presidential Center for the sake of her emotions. She had shut off her friends, with the exception of The Bushes. She only talked to her children and her husbands. They had a spot made up for her to nap on the plane next to the coffin. And she did so. She stayed with her family when she couldn't be near her husbands coffin. The morning of the California Funeral bought a sense of relief to her, but also a feeling of overwhelming sadness. Throughout the day she tried to keep her poise in front of the public eye, but towards the end at the gravesite, she broke down in her children's arms, holding onto the American Flag that was draped over her husbands casket everyday. Once the ceremony was over, the public went away. Cameras turned off, press making their way out. The employees of the Presidential Library had made a meal for all the guests after everything, but Mrs.Reagan didn't want to leave the gravesite just yet. The soldier she had been staying close to and walked with the whole day had gotten her a chair next to her husbands coffin. For as much time as she could, prior to the funeral, she sat next to her husbands coffin, gripping onto the American Flag. The soldiers had stayed around her to keep watch. But she started having a conversation with her husband, like he was there in person. Her children came out multiple times to try and get her to come inside, but she strictly told them she would so it when she was ready. But truthfully, would she ever be? She wasn't and wouldn't ever be ready to say goodbye to her husband. The love of her life. She felt like she couldn't go on without him, but she couldn't give up. Ronnie wouldn't like that. The sun was beginning to set out over the Pacific Ocean when she finally asked for help out of the chair. She allowed only one reporter that she trusted closely to take a few pictures. She kissed her husbands coffin and then rubbed her hand across the smooth, fine wood. "This isn't a goodbye, and you know that. One day we'll be reunited, and when that day comes, I'll be the happiest women in the world. Keep watching over me and the children. I love you, Ronnie.." One tear rolled down her face and landed on the coffin as she kissed it one final time, before she linked arms with one of the soldiers, and started to make way back to the building.