July 14, 1804
Dearest, Alexander
Your funeral was today. I didn't go. I'm sorry. Myself and the kids stayed in the house together. I heard it was an array of black umbrellas and black coats.
Alexander, I didn't go to your farewell. I couldn't get the words out. I stayed home and cried. You would've laughed at me, you really would have. Thankfully, Angelica said the eulogy for me. She said it beautifully. The thing I found funny was that people were saying that "you were violently taken from this world" but you weren't. You past away peacefully in your sleep, that's the most peaceful way to go. Did you feel pain? I'm sorry if you did-I really am. Pain was the last thing you needed. There was not a dry eye in the room. They were all crying for you. Were you there at the funeral? Did you hear what I wrote for you?. I don't know what to do now, I know you'd tell me to "move on Eliza" to love again. I don't see that happening. I loved you Alexander and I always will. It will always be you.
July 16, 1804
Dearest, Alexander
We are in a lot of debt. You never told me. I guess you didn't want me to worry. I don't have 60,000 to pay back. We might need to move out of the grange. I hope not. I feel grounded to you here.
September 1, 1804
Dearest, Alexander
I miss you Alexander, I really do. My love. I don't just miss the way you were around me but the way you were when you thought no one was looking; I miss the way you danced when you thought no one was looking. Honestly I could list off the things I miss about you, but, as you would say "there is no point Betsey, it's not like I can hear you anyway."
You didn't believe in an afterlife. But if there is one, will you wait for me? I know it's death do us apart but I can't stand the thought of not being with you.
The house was sold today at auction. We have to move out by the end of the month. I don't know what we're going to do. Should I marry again? I don't want to but I'll do it to survive. We're moving in with Angelica for now.
September 20, 1804
Dearest, Alexander
I don't know why I'm writing these. It helps me to think through my grief. I still find myself checking your office at night when I am tired. It's almost as though my mind refuses to admit that you aren't coming home.
You wouldn't believe the mess we've become.
September 21, 1804
Dearest, Alexander
Eliza Holly keeps asking when you are coming home. I don't know what to tell her. Obviously the answer is never but …
How do I tell a 4 year old that Papa isn't coming home? She thinks you're just on a business trip. I wish it were true. The bed feels so cold without you.
September 22, 1804
Dearest, Alexander
We were supposed to move out today. Everything is packed up in boxes. How strange a sight it is to see one's life reduced to a couple boxes.
Gouverneur Morris stopped by again today. He gave me 80,000 dollars to buy back the grange. They sold it to me for 35,000. I won't have to worry about money. I can't explain the relief I feel knowing we are financially secure. We never had that while you were alive. I'd give it up in a heartbeat to have you back.
Alex graduated from college. He's going to be working soon and moving out. Philip should have been getting married soon.
Will you look at that? My hands are shaking as I write this. My hands never , I need you, you can't comprehend how hard it is to come home to an empty house and know you're not coming home.
The house is empty and cold without you; literally I don't know how to fix the heating.
Nov 18, 1804
Dearest, Alexander
Alexander, can you hear me? Am I talking to myself? I'm tired of trying to keep myself together. I am a bunch of broken pieces.
Sorry I have to go. I can hear one of the boys crying in our room. I let them come in when they want to. It helps them remember you. I'm sitting in your office. I didn't realise how much you could hear from here. How did you ever get any work done?
Nov 25, 1804
Dearest, Alexander
Dad died that same day I last wrote to you. It was hard going to another funeral when I'm still not over you. Angelica and myself stayed with mom to make sure she was okay.
I dreamt that you were beside me last night. You told me that you would be with me forever. I guess in a way it's true. I can't go a single minute without thinking of you.
Eliza Holly wants a bedtime story. I have to go.
March 1806,
Dearest, Alexander
I forgot about these writings. It's been nearly two years and I still miss you. You left behind so many papers. I still haven't sorted through them.
The lady's at the Society for the Relief of Poor Widows with Small Children have set up an orphanage for children. There is one boy who I can't help but see you in him. He has dark eyes and curly hair. He just wants someone to care for him.
Alex is working away. James graduated last year. I wish you could have been there. He's studying law now. I stay up with him to help him study for his tests, just like I did with you.
January 11, 1809,
Dearest, Alexander
Happy birthday. I know you didn't like celebrating your birthday. It reminded you of your mom too much. But I hadn't written
to you in a while and I wanted to just say I miss you and I love you.
If you were here you'd probably give out about how I write more to you now that you're gone.
August 9, 1809,
Dearest, Alexander
I am 52 today. When did I get this old? I was supposed to grow old with you. If you were here, what would you be doing? We could be sitting on the porch together drinking old wine. Or more liking in this office while I knit and you write. I haven't touched your quill. I can't bring myself to do it. I feel like it's such a small thing but it was such a big part of your life.
I interviewed some of the soldiers you fought with in the war. I want to publish your papers and work some day. Not right now though. Between the orphanage and the kids I have too much going on.
John graduated from college. I'm so proud of him.
December 14, 1810
Dearest, Alexander
I don't know why I'm still writing these. It's not like you read them. I wish you had more time. My Alexander, I love you so much. I am grateful for the years we had together yet I don't feel greedy saying I want more. I expected more. Why did you have to go to that stupid duel? Do you regret it?
It snowed again today. How come most of the things that happened to us happened in the snow?
Our first kiss was in the snow and you proposed to me while it was snowing outside. You were always different in the snow, slightly happier. Your smile was always a little bigger and your hair seemed a little redder. You were always more relaxed. The snow sets you free.
I'm not one for crying. I had a thought today and the scariest part about it was that it was the truth. No matter how much I beg and plead for you to wait for me, I don't even know if there is a heaven. I can no longer tell the difference between my tears and the rain. I can barely read my writing on the page. I miss you Alexander.
October 16, 1810
Dearest, Alexander
James is getting married tomorrow. It's moments like these where I really miss you.
September 22, 1812
Dearest, Alexander
John is serving as aide de camp in a war between the allies and the United States. He is aide de camp to Major General William Henry Harrison. He knows you'd be proud of him.
You have a granddaughter. James and Maria are delighted. She's crawling, babbling and almost 1.
April 20, 1814
Dearest, Alexander
Angelica passed on March 6th. She's buried next to you. You were here for me when Peggy died. I wish I could say the same now. Why do I always lose the people I love?
I really hope there's an afterlife. The bible says there is so I believe. What would all this hardship on earth be for if not to get into the gates of heaven? I wouldn't like to imagine it otherwise.
July 20, 1825
I haven't written to you in years. I really missed you yesterday. The whole family did. Eliza got married. Alex jr walked her up the aisle. It should have been you.
Alex jr is married about 8 or 9 years, she's a lovely sweet girl. I'm running the orphanage a lot more now. I see you in all the children I'm helping to raise. I miss you everyday. I think of you everyday. William took office last year. All the boys are mini Alexander Hamilton's.
December 25, 1833
Dearest, Alexander
I sold the grange house this year. I'm settled into my new home. I remember when I couldn't imagine living somewhere else since you built the grange.
However, you don't live in that house. You're not a part of the house. You're a part of our memories and so long as we remember you and you stay in our hearts you will live on.
I love you, my Hamilton.
June 4, 1839
Do you remember your friend John Laurens? I read the letters you sent to him. I don't know how to feel. You always told me not to question it too much. We burnt the ones that would ruin your reputation. I know you loved him. That's okay. You loved me too. Maybe you loved us both?
John would have been proud of little Phil. He's using the underground railways to help free slaves and help them travel to Canada. Do you ever wonder what would have happened if he survived the war? He was an abolitionist, right?
October 31, 1842
Dearest, Alexander
A boy that I look after at the orphanage reminds me of you. He came here from an island. I believe it was the Bahamas. He lost both parents in a fire. He works really hard everyday.
I see you in him.
Anytime I teach the children the piano, I think of Philip. Are you with him now? I hope you are together.
December 29 1842
Dearest, Alexander
Lil Phil got married today. It's snowing. It was a beautiful ceremony. I like to think you were there with us.
March 3 1846,
Dearest, Alexander
John and myself are commissioning to get your papers published. I want you to be remembered for the kind and hard working man that you were.
Louis, our grandson, is learning to talk. He is telling me all the animals that live in the ocean. He is very smart, just like his grandfather.
November 9, 1854
Eliza listened as Eliza Holly read her the letters Alexander wrote to her and the letters she wrote after he had passed away. She had lived a long life. God gave her more time. Eliza smiled thinking about Alexander and her first dance. The hall was warm but outside it was snowing. They had one of the worst winters she ever experienced. Alexander always complained about the snow. Growing up on a hot island was such a contrast.
"Do you remember the first time we built a snowman?" Eliza Holly asked her. She nodded. She didn't remember though. She didn't remember much lately, but she'd never forget her Alexander.
"I never did publish those letters. Promise me you or one of the others will do it. Justice shall be done to the memory of my Hamilton", Eliza turned to look at her daughter. Eliza Holly held her frail hand.
"I will mom. I will". And she did.
"And burn those letters. Let me sleep now, dear", Eliza pulled the blankets up to her neck. She froze too easily. She no longer had young blood. Eliza Holly nodded, leaving her to rest.
"Oh and mom it's snowing out", Eliza Holly quietly closed the door behind her. Eliza closed her eyes knowing she would be reunited with her Alexander soon.
Part of the journey is the end.