Reunion
He always put his legacy first.
Even before her. Even before their family. Everything he did was to protect his name and reputation. Eliza hated this selfishness when he was living. But now that he was gone? She saw why he did what he did. And she watched as the legacy he left behind crumbled to bits.
So what could she do? What any sensible person, in her eyes, would do. She pieced it back together. Horrified what Jefferson had been doing to destroy a man who was no longer with them, she fought back by piecing him back together. By telling the truth of her husband's legacy. The deep-rooted meaning of why he did what he did. The words flowed out of her mouth without her noticing. She didn't try to stop them. Is that what it feels like to know just what to say? To feel such a passion for the topic, that the words spill out endlessly in waves?
Her Hamilton. She could feel his eyes on her. She could feel the smile on her face when she began interviewing soldiers that had been dear to him. This was his legacy.
In a way, it felt that with everything she did for him, her smile would grow. Her heart would race with excitement. It was almost as if this is what she was meant to do all along. All of the pain he had put her through, and she finally understood. He wanted his legacy protected, whatever it took. This was her destiny. Her legacy would be protecting his.
And she would do everything in her power to do so. Whatever she had to do to make him happy. She knew he was here with her, helping her every step of the way. He had to be. Where else would this longing for constant work, to protect a legacy she had never before cared for, come from? The root of her worries were now saving it, rather than pushing it away like it had been when he lived.
As she toured through their house once more, the bust of her husband on display as she desperately tried to salvage the legacy he had tirelessly worked for, she stopped. Eliza shut her eyes and took a deep breath. She felt his arms wrap around her, but she knew no one would be there when she opened up her eyes again. So she kept them shut, still holding the bust of her husband tightly, as if his spirit was somehow trapped in it.
Her eyes were still squeezed tightly as she remembered. She opened them in a different place, her arms wrapped around not a bust, but a spare blanket. She had been reminiscing again. But, she knew that the embrace that she felt was real. No, it was not her imagination. Her husband was here for her. Her time had come to see him again. She had so much more to do, and still, she finally felt complete.
Eliza held that with her. He had never left. She had been reunited with him before being separated.
And finally, knowing that he was there, a weight was lifted off her shoulders. She smiled there on her deathbed. Finally, she could be with her Hamilton forevermore.
Was this a cringy waste of time? Yes. Did this make sense anywhere else but my head? No.
