A.N. Hey readers. So, last year I was struggling with some traumatic events, including the suicide of a friend at the same time that I was contemplating suicide. In order to cope, I fixated on another similar event—which, thanks to Kevin Clash, turned out to be the death of Jim Henson. I am doing better now, but I ended up writing several fanfictions as a show of my grief. I felt that publishing them today was the right thing to do, in thanks to an extraordinary man.
To Jim Henson—
Thank you for showing us the rainbow connection.
Sincerely,
The lovers, the dreamers and me
Kermit sneezed once or twice as he cleaned the dust from his old office. The Muppet Theatre was finally buzzing with activity, after so many years of silence. The place had fallen into disrepair, but when the Muppets worked together, there was nothing they couldn't do—as long as they had a reasonably suitable soundtrack. In fact, Kermit could just hear the strands of Michael Jackson's 'ABC' from where Mary and Gary were helping to build a dressing room for Walter. Everything was as it should be—and yet, something was wrong.
In front of Kermit was a wall of photos—celebrities who he had worked with all those years ago. Harry Belafonte, Julie Andrews, and right in the center—Jim Henson. Jim had always believed in the Muppet Show. He had never given up his dream of taking the group into the world of television, even when every production agency in America had turned them down. Jim had just gone overseas when that had happened. He had used his stubborn nature to push the Muppets onto prime time television, and had been broken-hearted when they had been forced to cancel the show. Even though the Muppets were still making movies, and the Sesame Street gang were still going strong, Jim had been disappointed.
And now they were together again…except they weren't. Because after Jim had died, the Muppets had gone quiet, and slowly had disappeared from public life. Kermit knew that Steve Whitmore would take care of him, but it still wasn't the same. At least Fozzie still got to see Frank Oz now and again. In fact, they still did routines together. But Jim had been torn away from Kermit far too soon.
Is there more I could have said?
Now he's just a picture in my head.
That's why my green is feeling grey
Sometimes even frogs have rainy days.
Remember when the Muppets first appeared on ATV?
Who'd have thought some puppets would go down in history?
If we could do it all again, just another chance to entertain
Would anybody watch or even care?
Or did something break we can't repair?
Could we do it all again, make them laugh like we did then?
We could harmonise for one more song…
But I'm standing here instead.
Now he's just a picture in my head
Kermit could feel someone standing behind him. He turned to face Fozzie, who was quietly twisting his bowler hat in his hands like he always did when he was upset.
"Jim… he would have loved this," Kermit said softly. "All of us, together again. I just wish…" The frog fell silent, but Fozzie didn't have to ask. All of the Muppets knew that with Jim Henson's death, something had been broken irreparably inside Kermit. Just knowing that his friend could have survived if he had reached the hospital a few hours earlier had broken the frog's heart.
That night, as the Muppets settled down into their makeshift hammocks, Fozzie reached out to Kermit with a soft paw. Kermit held onto his paw with his own hand, and stared through the hole in the roof at the twinking stars.
"Goodnight, Jim," he said softly to himself. "I hope you're happy—wherever you are."
"Life's like a movie, write your own ending. Keep believing, keep pretending."—Jim Henson
