elizabethlevett

It’s been over forty years since Kermit and Miss Piggy said, “I do.” The years have been good to them. Our beloved characters have enjoyed the blessings and withstood the vicissitudes of wedded life. It hasn’t been easy, living in the public eye and choosing to be open about their unconventional relationship. Society hasn’t always been kind, and some have even suggested their union is far enough outside the norms of society as to rise to a level of a dangerous legal precedent. All of this they’ve endured as the artists and activists we know them to be, ever brave and always mindful of their lofty position in the entertainment world. We look in on them today, advanced in years. Kermit is in hospice receiving palliative care for advanced stomach cancer, having been unsuccessful in his lawsuit against the pesticide company, his attempts to raise awareness of contaminated insects among the amphibian community now a bitter memory. It’s just about curtains for Kermit. His dear companion, Miss Piggy, legally known as Mrs. Porcina Frog, is at his bedside.

Miss Piggy speaks first. “Have you decided what you’ll want to wear?”

Kermit struggles to open his watery frog eyes. “For what now?” he asks, his beautiful voice shaking.

“You know, for the wake and all. What will you want us to have ready?”

He looks at her, unbelieving and sighs. “Oh, any old thing will do. I really don’t think I’ll care at that point.”

She coughs nervously and fingers her handkerchief. “Naturally,” she says. “But I do wish you’d give it some thought. I mean, there are so many details to iron out, so much to think about. I only ask because I want to respect your wishes.”

“Since when?” Silence. Then this, “I tell you what,” he offers, closing his eyes wearily, “Why not put me in a clown suit? I bet Bert would love that. Since Ernie’s been gone, he could use a good laugh. Those two were the power couple at the Met Gala year after year. Poor Bert seems lost without his little, er, buddy. Might has well leave ‘em happy.”

“But you know I can’t stand clowns, they terrify me. That’s an awful idea!”

Kermit sighs deeply. “So now we’re talking about you. Of course. Why don’t you just pick out any old thing? I still have that suit from Henson’s funeral. Or how about my orange velour track suit? It’s so cozy.”

“Because that kind of orange is so unflattering to your beautiful complexion!”

He mumbles, “It still isn’t easy being green.”

Piggy becomes petulant. “Why does it have to be up to me? This is so stressful – I have a lot on my plate as it is!”

He smiles, “My darling dear, you’ve always had a lot on your plate! My girl was always first in line at the buffet.”

They share a tender smile.

“I just don’t know how I’ll manage without my Kermie,” she says tearfully, gazing into his eyes.

“You won’t be a widow long, not with that gorgeous figure of yours.” He winks, “Come on now, you’ve always been my brave, confident bride, you’ve always had such an outgoing personality.”

“Oh, darling. I’m not the ham you think I am — You that’s not the real me. Under the surface, I still feel like a frightened little piglet.”

“I’ll always be there. Just look for me in the pond, I’ll be watching out for you, in the ripples beneath your favorite lily pad.”

And so, we leave the Frogs, as they share these final sweet moments together, knowing that in a few short days they’ll continue their journey, Miss Piggy will star in her own biopic, revealing the deep secrets of their glorious years together, while the soul of her sweet man frog plops into the warm waters of eternity. We can only imagine he’s finally found it, the rainbow connection.