By Carla Kelly

Does America have a new romantic hero in a space station astronaut? What’s so nice is he declared his love for his wife so publicly, and said something interesting about people and the nature of love.
I’m referring to Garrett Reisman, who recently returned to earth from a three-month assignment at the international space station. During a broadcast, the soon-to-leave astronaut was asked what he was looking forward to. Reisman had two words: “Simone Francis,” his wife. He joked that he was bound for the doghouse by embarrassing her, but what he said next makes me think she was probably pleased:
“But the truth is that when I look out the window at the planet and I look down at all the people down there,” he said, “I’m usually just thinking about one of all those billions of people. And that’s definitely what I’m looking forward to seeing the most.”
How true. Seen from space, Earth is a lovely planet with clouds and blue water. One of the principal reasons Earth is so beautiful in another way is because of those loved ones who inhabit the planet with us.
I seriously doubt Garrett Reisman remained in the doghouse long. What must it have been like for Simone Francis to look up and know that her husband was looking back at her? Love connects us, even though miles get in the way. I hope the Reismans had a happy reunion.
They got me thinking about lovers through the ages – not the famous or handsome ones, but couples whose expressed feelings have the power to remind us how enduring love is between two people, on this planet with so many people.
In Hollywood terms, Abigail and John Adams were nothing to get excited about. They loved each other through perilous times in our colonial and early republic era, when they were often separated because of war and duty. Here’s part of a letter from Abigail to John, middle-aged fuddy duddies, dated 23 December 1782:
“Dearest Friend, … should I draw you the picture of my Heart it would be what I hope you still would Love; tho it contained nothing new, the early possession you obtained there, and the absolute power you have maintained over it, leaves not the smallest place unoccupied.”  And this: “…nor have the dreary years of absence in the smallest degree effaced from my mind the Image of a dear … man to whom I gave my Heart.”
 I enjoyed this snippet from a letter Oliver Cromwell sent to his wife in 1650. It appealed to me particularly because some recent family history research I acquired has confirmed that the Cromwells are distant relatives of mine. Nice to know that even if Cromwell played a major role in seeing that King Charles I lost his head, he still had a sentimental side:
“My Dearest, Truly, if I love thee not too well, I think I err not on the other hand much. Thou art dearer to me than any creature; let that suffice. I rest thine, Oliver.” Ah hah! Cromwell also knew how to use a semi-colon properly. Maybe I inherited his semi-colon gene; perhaps he is a resident of Planet Grammaria already.
Sometimes letters from historical figures are best kept from young eyes. It’s a dirty little secret of Indian Wars historians that the controversial Lt. Col. William Benteen of the Seventh Cavalry decorated love letters to his wife with – ahem – little doodles of his manly anatomy. I had to smile when I read his letters and gaped at his drawings, considering how thoroughly they trashed notions of Victorian prudery. Fred was a rare old dog.
He knew how to conclude a letter: “Well, Wifey, Darling, I think this will do for a letter, so with oceans of love to you … and kisses innumerable, I am devotedly, your husband, Fred.”
I like this comment from Jane Welsh to her future husband, Scottish essayist Thomas Carlyle: “When I read in your looks and words that you love me, I feel it in the deepest part of my soul; and then I care not one straw for the whole Universe beside…”
Ah, the universe, the one that astronaut Reisman traveled in as he thought of his wife. Among all the world’s billions, we single out our few special people and cherish them for a moment here, then longer elsewhere, if we’re lucky.