Pam sighed, pushing her hair out of her eyes. It was in a loose bun, which had all but come undone after a day of chasing around kids. She looked at the last two kids left in her room. A boy with sandy brown hair and green eyes was painting in the corner. A younger girl with curls was drawing with crayons on one of the desks.

“‘Kay guys, time to go home,” she said, smiling at her children.

“Done grading? Everyone get an A?” the boy, Alex, asked.

“You trying to see what your friends made?” Pam joked, tickling him as he walked by.

Pam loved her job as an art teacher at the local elementary school. Once her kids started school there, it made it even better. She was able to both work, but still be close by to her children. And after school, they always hung out in her classroom. Both of them had inherited their mother’s love of art. Days like this however, made days back at Dunder Mifflin seem great. She had 3 periods with tests, while the other classes were running around, not doing what they were supposed to do. Normally, it would be bearable. That was part of being a teacher. Today, though, she couldn’t wait until she was able to relax at home. It was Thursday, which meant that Jim would be cooking dinner tonight. She had the night off, and couldn’t wait to just relax.

Alex and Sophie led the way to the car. Sophie, just five years old, was skipping and chattering the whole way. Pam always thinks that Sophie is what Jim must have been like as a child, bubbly, always moving, talking, and mischievous. Alex was more like Pam herself, quiet and introverted, however, he seemed unaffected (at least so far) by the constant self-doubt that had plagued herself for much of her childhood… of course, he was only ten and had yet to hit the brutal teen years. Pam involuntarily shivers at that thought.

The drive home was uneventful, Sophie still chattering, Alex lost in thought, and Pam planning her evening alone. She was so grateful they had started having this alternating nights off thing. It had started when Alex was a baby. Jim had just started back at work (still at Dunder Mifflin, before he found a job he really loved being a manager at a local bookstore. He always joked he was still working with paper, but Pam knew he loved this job). Pam had been alone with a colicky Alex all day, and couldn’t take it anymore. When Jim came home, Alex was screaming, and Pam was crying, unable to comfort Alex. Jim took Alex, and forced Pam to get out of the house, take a night off. It had grown since then, evolving as their family grew. Now it was basically just two guilt free nights off – to relax, to go out with friends, to sit and watch TV. Anything except help with homework, do laundry, make dinner. And of course, every other week they made sure that both of them had a night off, hired a babysitter, and they went on a real date. Their marriage was far from perfect, but those nights had really helped them get through some rough patches.

As Pam pulled into the garage, she was surprised that Jim’s car wasn’t there. It was close to 6 o’clock; normally he would already be starting dinner. Oh well, must be picking up something from the store, Pam thought, shrugging off the worried feeling. She could start her relaxing when Jim came back; he had to be back soon.

However, Jim wasn’t back by 7, and the kids were starting to whine. Pam had called his cell and gotten no answer. She was starting to panic. It wasn’t like Jim to be this late and not call. And he always answered his cell. Pam tried to contain her worry as she made something for dinner.

“When is daddy getting back?” Sophie kept asking.

“Soon, sweetie. Soon, I am sure,” Pam kept answering.

When the phone rang at 7:15, Pam nearly jumped out of her skin. She ran to answer it.

“Jim?” she asked, not even looking at the caller ID.

“No, ma’am, this is Doctor Stephens, from Mercy Hospital. Your husband, Jim, was brought in this evening after being in a car accident.”

Pam gasps, feeling her knees giving out. Alex looks at his mom, worried, and leads her over to a chair.

“The accident was rather serious. I would come here as soon as you can,” Dr. Stephens continued, rather unemotional.

“Okay,” Pam hangs up, unable to hear any more. She doesn’t even feel as if she can talk, nonetheless move.

Alex and Sophie look at her questioningly. “Mommy?” Sophie asks, putting her small hand on top of Pam’s.

More than a minute passes before Pam can answer. “Your daddy was in an accident. We are going to go visit him, so, everybody, lets get our jackets on.” She puts an artificial smile on her face, trying to keep the fear she feels inside.

Sophie runs off, not understanding the seriousness. Alex, always the observant one, says, “Its bad, isn’t it?”

Pam nods. Alex was wise beyond his years. She feels a tear escape down her cheek, and wipes it away. “Come on now, let’s get our jackets.”

Pam broke quite a few traffic laws speeding to the hospital. She really isn’t sure how she arrived there in one piece, because her mind was not on driving at all. All she could think about was Jim. Parking the car as quickly as she could, she grabbed one child with each hand and dragged them into the hospital lobby.

Finding reception, Pam started asking questions as fast as she could, “Hello, my husband was in a car accident. Dr. Stephens just called. Oh, his name is Jim. Jim Halpert. My husband that is. I don’t know anything more. Oh, God, he has to be okay. Where is his room? Who is his doctor? What is going on?” The questions tumbled out of her, unable to keep her emotions in check any longer.

The worker at the desk was very calm. “Halpert you said? H-A-L-P-E-R-T?” Pam nods. “Okay, he is still in surgery. Dr. Evans is the surgeon, don’t worry, he is one of the best. I will page Dr. Stephens to tell you more. You can have a seat over there,” she says, motioning to the waiting area.

Pam walks slowly over, drained of all emotion. Alex tries to entertain his younger sister; Sophie just plays without caring where she is.

A few minutes later, there is a man standing in front of her, “Mrs. Halpert?” he asks.

Standing up, she replies, “Yes?”

“I’m Dr. Stephens, lets go talk,” and gestures to further down the hall.

Pam is sick with worry, but follows him to a private room. A nurse comes, and takes Alex and Sophie to a play area. She nods to Alex to say its okay.

“The car accident was serious. The police said that a drunk driver hit your husband’s car. It caused a pretty large pile up, and unfortunately, your husband was at the worst of it.”

Pam shudders, unable to concentrate on anything. She keeps hearing the word accident over and over in her head.

“When the police were finally able to get to him, he was unconscious and pretty banged up. His legs and arms were both broken, and there was severe bleeding. The ambulance was able to stabilize him enough to get to the hospital, and get him into surgery. However,” Dr. Stephens pauses. He always hated this part. Even after being a doctor for 15 years, it never gets any easier.

Pam could feel herself breaking. She didn’t want to hear what was next.

Dr. Stephens takes a deep breath, and continues, “However, there was too much bleeding. They couldn’t stop it fast enough. He had lost too much blood and there was too much damage. I am sorry, he died on the operating table.”

Pam collapses into herself, sobs racking her body. “No, no, no, this can’t be true. Jim!” She says, between sobs.

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Stephens says, unable to comfort her. “Is there anything I can do, anyone I can call?”

Pam shakes her head, unable to think. She mumbles off something about her mother.

Dr. Stephens leaves, goes to try to call the mother. Pam sits there for a while longer, unable to move, just sobbing. Every once in a while, she gets up enough strength to cry out “Jim” in hopes that calling his name would undo everything.

Pam’s mom arrives there soon. She had moved closer to be with her grandchildren. She says hello to her grandchildren first. Alex is sitting on one of the seats, trying to act natural and thumbing through a magazine. He knows something is wrong. He has guessed that his dad died, but hasn’t allowed the thought to fully form. He fears, if he actually thinks it, if he actually says it, it would cause it to be true. Sophie was curled up, asleep on the chair next to him. Her energy had given out soon after Pam left. Pam’s mom gave them both a kiss, and told them she would be back. She found Pam alone in the room, curled up, helpless. Her tears had long since run dry, and she had no energy left. It was as if, now that Jim was gone, part of Pam had died too. She pulled Pam up, and held her close.

“He’s gone,” Pam says, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” her mom responds, kissing her head.

Pam can’t move. She sits, wrapped in her mother’s arms. Her voice is weak. “The kids.”

“They are alright. Alex knows. Sophie is asleep.” Catherine Beesly says. She wishes there was something that could comfort her daughter. When her own husband had died it was after a long battle with cancer. His death was a welcome end to the long battle. It was expected and planned. Jim’s death had been all too sudden. Pam looked as if she no longer had the will to live.

“I have to tell them,” Pam can’t imagine doing this. How do you tell kids that their father won’t ever read them a story again, won’t laugh at their jokes, won’t be around to teach them to play sports, to go camping, to do anything that fathers normally do. Pam wipes away the last stray tear that found its way down her cheek. She used every ounce of strength she had to stand up, but felt her knees nearly buckle as she walked out the door. Pam wanted to see Jim. One look from him gave her the courage to do anything. It was he who convinced her to go further with her art. He who was with her at her first showing. He who told her that she would be a great art teacher. Now he was gone. She could not imagine walking down the hall without some help. But now, her constant companion was gone.

Catherine saw the weakness in her daughter’s eyes. She longed to help, but felt helpless. Pam was strong; she had proven that in the past. She remembered the steely look in her eyes when she was canceling the wedding plans with Roy. Yet, with Jim, everything became easy. It wasn’t that Pam lost her strength; it was that it wasn’t needed. They worked together so well. Catherine hoped that her daughter could remember how to be strong, and get through this… yet had the feeling that a love and a loss like this, one could never really get through. You survive it, sure. But reaching the other side merely means you are at the other side, not that you are better for it.

Catherine follows Pam, giving her support as she walks to the children.

Alex immediately notices his mother and grandmother. It was then that the thought fully forms in his head. “He died,” he says, barely audible. He was the first person he knew to have a dead parent. He knew it happened, sure. People died all the time. They were always talking about it on the news. It had always seemed so removed though. Those weren’t real people. Parents lived forever. Even when his grandfather died (he was only 4, it was a faint memory in the back of his head), he didn’t connect the funeral and the words with the actual meaning behind them. He remembered his mom crying, but smiling through the tears. There was no smile this time. His mom looked sick.

“Hey boy,” Pam says, rustling through his hair. He looked so much like Jim; Pam’s heart was breaking at the mere sight.

“Pumpkin,” Pam says, shaking Sophie’s shoulder. “Pumpkin, we need to talk, okay?”

Sophie slowly wakes up, a bit confused at where she was. “Can we see daddy now?”

That sweet little voice asking for her father breaks Pam. A tear runs down her face. Pam takes a deep breath, shuddering as she does. “Sophie, Alex. Your daddy was in an accident. He was really hurt, and…” Pam cannot bring herself to say the words, she tries, but, her mouth hangs open, and no sound comes out.

“And he died,” Alex finishes quietly.

Pam quietly nods. Alex brings his knees up, and buries his face in them. Sophie, however, doesn’t understand. “What does dat mean? Can I see him?”

Pam pulls Sophie into her lap. “Sweetie, you remember the Lion King?” Sophie had just watched the movie for the first time last weekend. Pam had gotten the soundtrack stuck in her head, and had spent the next few days singing Hakuna Matata. Sophie nods. “Well, remember when Mufasa saved Simba, but then he died?” Sophie again nods, not really connecting it yet. “Well, your daddy got hurt, just like Mufasa did. He got hurt really badly. He had boo boos all over. And the doctors couldn’t fix him.”

“Like humpty dumpty?” Sophie asks, trying to piece this all together in her head.

“Well, yes. Like humpty dumpty. And so, he… he died just like Mufasa. So, you will always remember him as your daddy, he just won’t be able to play. But, just like Mufasa, he will always be watching out for you.”

Sophie is quiet for a while. It is because of this conversation that for the next few years, whenever she thinks of her father, she will get a jumble of images included lions and eggs in her head.

Pam reaches over to Alex in the next seat. Rubbing his back, she repeats, “Its okay, Alex. It’s all going to be okay.”

“Mom?” Alex asks looking up at Pam with tears streaked down his little cheeks. “I wanna see him.” His voice has such resolve that even Pam is surprised.

“Okay,” Pam can’t say no. She hadn’t even thought about seeing Jim. She didn’t know if she wanted to, but Alex wanted to, and she was going to give him that. He was just ten, but she could not deny him that. Pam hands the still quiet (and by now, slightly dozing) Sophie off to her mother, and walks back to the reception desk.

She can’t help the emotions that overcome her as she walks closer, remembering how just a few hours ago, she raced in, panicked. It seemed so long ago. And it was. Maybe not in physical hours, but in emotional ones. It was a lifetime ago, a time that she could never return to.

The worker had changed. Pam was slightly grateful. It was a new face, one that wouldn’t remember the emotional mess. Pam takes a deep breath, and finds a resolve in her that she didn’t know she had. She remembers the story she just told her daughter, and smiled for the first time. She thought of Jim, looking down on her, giving his strength to her. “I would like to know how to see my husband.”

Pam walked back to her family. It all seemed to quick now. The receptionist said that they would have to visit with the body soon, before it was taken to the morgue. The body. It wasn’t Jim anymore. It was as if the receptionist refused the mention of it being Jim, a living, breathing person. No, now it was just a body. Going to the morgue. When did that happen? Pam wondered. At what moment was Jim not Jim any more, but a lifeless body? The receptionist kept talking about funeral homes and release papers, but Pam just turned and walked back. How was she supposed to make these decisions? Any strength she imagined from Jim had disappeared when she heard ‘the body.’ It was as if that night was just going to be random phrases repeating in her head. She couldn’t decide if ‘the body’ was any better than ‘accident.’ Accident gave her hope at least, but accident was gone. It was hopeless now. STOP! Pam chastised herself. It wasn’t hopeless. She couldn’t let it be, not for those two little children who would now grow up fatherless.

Alex looked at her, still with resolve in his eyes. She wondered where he got that. How was she folding up like a paper doll, yet her ten year old had an iron will? She looked past Alex to Sophie, dozing on her grandmother’s lap. Pam wondered if she should allow Sophie to come with her and Alex. Should she go before both of them? She didn’t know how she was going to react. She didn’t want Alex in there if she had an emotional breakdown, but how would she ever be willing to let Alex go in there if she does. Sophie was probably far too young to understand, and she had good memories of her father. How would she feel though, years later, when she realizes she wasn’t able to say goodbye for the last time.

Pam’s mind swirls at the possibilities. For the thousandth time that night, she wishes Jim were there to guide her. She suddenly can’t even just focus on the present, but instead starts thinking about all the things that have yet to happen. Graduations, weddings, grandchildren. If her body had any tears or energy left, they surely would be gone now. Pam is nearly catatonic.

“Mom.” Alex says with an insistence far past his ten years. “I want to see dad.”

This brings Pam back to the present. Not that it was a better state of affairs. “Alex, your dad was pretty beat up. I don’t think it would be best if you saw him. Maybe at the funeral.”

“No. Now,” Alex is not taking no for an answer. Pam knows that she is the adult, but Alex seems to be taking the place. She stands up, and takes Alex’s hand.

They walk together in silence to the elevator. Alex walks with one purpose in mind. To see his father, for the final good bye. He has realized that, even though he has known it, he needs to see it. See that this wasn’t just a bad dream. He still hopes in the bottom of his heart that maybe, just maybe, this isn’t real. After all, he had been the one to say that his father was dead. Sure, his mom had said it when she was explaining it to Sophie. But, she had never said it to him directly. He could still have hope.

As Pam walked, she couldn’t help but watch everyone walking past. Mostly nurses and doctors wondered around, with a sense of importance and urgency unmatched by others. There were a few relatives. Some looked as if they had spent so much time there, they were just part of the furniture, as much as that couch, or that potted plant. Some people who walked by seemed happy. A new baby, a successful surgery, who knows why. Pam doesn’t think she could ever feel happy again. She tries to remember some happy moments, but they are all tainted by memories of a life taken.

Their first real date. Pam was giddy with excitement; she couldn't stop moving. Time seems to be going slower. She had been ready and waiting since four. Why had they agreed to seven? He had been waiting in his car down the block for 15 minutes before he had allowed himself to ring her doorbell 30 minutes early. They laughed about it at dinner, both of them ready to early. That date, although nothing really different than the friendly dinners they had shared before, was special. There was electricity between them, which no longer had to be denied. As they kissed goodnight, they both knew that they were always going to be impatiently waiting for the next date.

Michael proposing for Jim. He was going to ask that Friday night, after dinner. He had brought the ring to work. He had to keep looking at it, making sure it was real; nothing was going to screw tonight up. But Jim hadn’t counted on Michael. Michael had come by his desk asking for some forms. Not thinking, Jim opened up the drawer. That’s when Michael saw the ring box. “Oooh-e. Whatcha got here?” Picking up the box and opening it, he turned to Pam. “Looks like Slim Jim here is gonna give you something nice tonight.” Jim had looked a combination of embarrassed, horrified, and excited. Pam was in a state of shock. “Yes,” she quickly blurts out. Jim looks confused. “What?” “Yes. Yes. Yes!” Pam’s voice was rising. By now everyone in the office was looking at them. “But, I didn’t ask you.” “I don’t care, the answer is still yes.”

Pam had found out she was pregnant in early June. It took all her willpower to not call Jim up immediately. The pay off was going to be too great. For the next two weeks, she acted as if the sickness was no big deal. She put off going to the doctor because her art classes were taking up a lot of time. So she said. Finally, June 19th was there. Father’s day. She wrapped a (new) pregnancy test early that morning, and placed it at his seat at the table, waiting for him when he came down for breakfast. “What’s this?” “Oh, I just figured I would get you something special. I saw it and thought of you. No biggie.” Pam tried to play it cool, hoping her smile wouldn’t give her away. Pam tried to watch out of the corner of her eye as he opened it. “Pam…?” he asks, shocked. “February 22nd.” And places her hand on her stomach.

They step off the elevator into the basement. It is dark and cool. It has a sterility about it that exceeds even the normal expectation of a hospital. Pam squeezes her son’s hand reassuringly. They find the room. Pam can’t think of what the real name the receptionist used. She thinks of it as a holding area. Pre-morgue or whatever. Before they go into the door, she asks Alex once more, “You sure?”

Alex, his confidence fading now that he is so close, takes his time before he nods. He didn’t come all this way to turn back now. His father had taught him that. You finish what you start.

Pam opens the door. There is a worker, walking around with a clipboard. “May I help you?” he asks, not really looking up.

“Yes. Um, we would like to see my husband. Jim Halpert.”

“Halpert. H… Hal… Okay, here he is.” He walks over to a gurney near them. “You sure?”

Pam nods. If she waits another second, she fears that she would just run away. She has realized that she too, like Alex, needs to do this.

The worker lifts the sheet covering Jim’s head. “I’ll leave you alone,” and then leaves the room, the door swinging shut quietly.

Physically, his face was the same. A few small scratches, his hair mated with blood, but all in all, similar to how he had looked when he left this morning. The unmistakable difference was in his eyes. His eyes, shut thankfully, no longer glimmered with a teasing mood. They no longer sparkled as they did every day. His face looked lifeless. Pam understood why the receptionist upstairs called it a body. She couldn’t connect the fact that this… this was Jim.

Alex had stuck his hand under the sheet, and pulled out the hand. Alex was holding it, staring at it in his. The hand that was so large, seemed dwarfed suddenly. It was no longer attached to his father. His father was there, sure. Physically. But that hand, it was no longer the hand tickling him. No longer the hand that would tuck him into bed, even though Alex liked to insist he was too old for such childish things. It was just a hand. Seeing that hand made it real. His father was dead. There would be no more tickling, no more tucking in. That was taken away from him now. Alex drops the hand and covers his face with his hands. Pam drops to her knees as she hears her son sobbing, wrapping him in a hug. Pam tries to comfort him, but does not know how. They have both lost him. It is all to real now.