“There’s a lot of beauty in ordinary things. Isn’t that the point?”
— Pamela Beesly Halpert, May 16, 2013.

Our family spent this evening bidding farewell to the quotidian saga of The Office after seven solidly engaging seasons, one apocryphal season we endured out of customer loyalty, and one mostly improved bonus season to make up for that one. Of all our ongoing TV series, it was the only one we watched unanimously. Whenever the Dunder Mifflin staff spent another work day together, we spent quality time together, like the families of days past that gathered around the old-time radio, the puppet stage, the family plow, or whatever other objects past generations thought were worth gathering around. (Well, at least we did this after my son was old enough to appreciate it and binge-watched the early seasons over one summer vacation.)

The series finale, courageously titled “Finale”, contained more pathos and closure than the last five sci-fi series I watched, combined. It was a veritable Busby Berkeley choreographed extravaganza of happy surprises and even happier endings. Please allow me to insert this courtesy spoiler alert (especially for the west coast or the DVR-reliant) before marveling at all the gifts that the cast and crew brought for us in their 75-minute swan song. If you abandoned the series after Steve Carell’s departure, you might consider revisiting old friends to witness some satisfying resolutions (too, too satisfying):

* A year after the PBS documentary aired, few of Our Heroes became instant media darlings. Two exceptions: Jim, who has a couple of fans gushing over him at a public Q&A; and Andy, whose America’s Next A Cappella Sensation tantrum turned him into a viral-video icon of mixed repute, earning him the nickname “Baby Wawa”. Later this was parlayed through strange circumstances into a full-time job at the Cornell admissions office. If it’s Cornell, you can bet Andy is content.

* As expected, Dwight and Angela were married with all the Schrute family traditions carefully observed, including graves, kidnapping, and an all-strings rendition of “Sweet Child o’ Mine”. Dwight naturally settles into his manager role with gusto, a little less embarrassingly than we would’ve thought possible from him seasons ago.

* Oscar now has aspirations of running for State Senator. He’s also the doting godfather of Mr. and Mrs. Schrute’s son, Philip.

* Erin’s birth parents revealed themselves, each played by Joan Cusack and Ed Begley, Jr. Just because.

* Kevin and Toby find themselves fired because Dwight decides to have employment standards, unlike every single manager before him. While Kevin buys a bar (making him, effectively, a younger Coach from Cheers), Toby moves to New York so he can write the great American novel and fail at ignoring the misery of his entire existence.

* Meredith reveals her deep, dark secret: she’s been going to school for her psychology degree through most of the years they were being filmed. This veered closely to my wife’s pet theory (now disproved, alas) that Kevin was actually a shrewd genius who was only pretending to be a dunce so the documentary crew would pay him more attention. We’d been wondering what sorts of lives the second-string characters had off-camera. Also, if you remember Meredith’s son Jake from season two, he’s all grown up and working as a stripper. Mom’s so proud.

* Darryl remains at Athlead, now merged with another company and renamed Athleap, headquartered in Austin. As with all the other characters who escaped the confines of Dunder Mifflin, he’s living the dream.

* Nellie had moved back to Europe, but returns for one last reunion. Her reward: a surprise resolution to her dreams of adoption, albeit of questionable legality. On a related note, Ryan and Kelly reunite for the first time after their breakup and behave exactly as you’d expect.

* Stanley retires, moves to Florida, shrugs off the divorce papers, and carves birds as a hobby.

* Phyllis is…well, she’s Phyllis. Maybe a deleted scene holds the key to her destiny. Same goes for Clark and Pete, the young final-season additions that brought some much-appreciated fresh air into the building.

* Amidst a few cameos from other random characters (Val! Nate! Devon! Carol! Mose! Zeke Schrute! Elizabeth the stripper! Jake Palmer! Ravi! Bob Vance, Vance Refrigeration! Showrunner Greg Daniels!), the media’s burning question is answered: yes, the Michael Scott returns for the Schrute/Martin wedding. Michael is grayer, calmer, and now possessed of a genuine family. (With children! plural!) He dances through a couple of backgrounds and has exactly two lines, both 100% befitting his legacy. Longtime viewers can guess one of the lines without even watching.

* Creed ends up on the run from the law and disguised in a frightening beard. As he’s led away by the authorities at the end, he accentuates one of the series’ two contrasting main ideas: sometimes life is about finding happiness right where you are. For that reason, the idea of moving from his claustrophobic corner desk to a jail cell ultimately doesn’t perturb him in the least. Meet the new digs, same as the old digs. Maybe jail will provide him a working Internet connection for a change, and then “Creed’s Thoughts” will return to haunt us all.

As always, the through-line connecting the fabric of the Dunder Mifflin story is Jim and Pam. Though the penultimate episode ended with Jim proving once and for all that Pam is everything to him and then some — via DVD clipfest, plus the return of a very special souvenir from season 2’s “Christmas Party” — Pam turns the tables on Jim and upholds the series’ other main idea, explored time again throughout this season: that sometimes the pursuit of happiness means you don’t have to settle for staying right where you are. When you’re blessed enough to have options, consider which one is good enough to endure, and which one resembles a dream you might’ve once had. Then choose wisely.

As if that weren’t satisfying enough, the finale — justified as the film crew’s desire to create post-show DVD extras — goes above and beyond in tying a neat bow on the whole documentary concept that’s driven the narrative since day one. As Pam dwells on the documentary’s sharp scrutiny of the joys and oddities to be found in everyday living, Jim imparts his gratitude to the crew for giving his family a true rarity: a complete, living document of their relationship from prologue to happy ending, with all the milestones and precious moments chronicled in between. Theirs was life lived as a walking scrapbook — not in shame or indignity, like participants in real reality shows, but in honesty, vulnerability, and sincere appreciation for all that’s entailed.

Thus is Jim grateful for what “a stupid, wonderful, boring, amazing job” has done for his life, recognizing how poorer his life would’ve been without it.

Thus does The Office conclude, hopefully with a few faithful followers likewise richer for the experience.