I’ve gotten the sense watching Mad Men from the beginning that some of its episodes are built and crafted for different purposes. The primary purpose is and always has been storytelling – a great deal of plot gets packed into several seemingly mundane events, and many different characters develop subplots in a single episode, and the most important effect is always to draw audiences into the story. Some episodes, though, are more about aesthetics than they are story. Quite a few episodes in season two felt that way, particularly toward the end, and in this recent season, I’d point to “Souvenir” as well, with its extended Hilton-induced meditation on Rome and travel. Then, of course, there are installments meant to startle or shock, and for that you need look no further than “Guy Walks Into an Advertising Agency,” which went all the way to blood spewing across the office. Two weeks ago, I sat tensed on the couch as I watched Betty pull the box out of Don’s drawer. Other things happened, and there was some hefty accompanying thematic material, but the entire episode built up to that moment and then startled the audience into rapt attention.

What I’m trying to say is, last night’s season finale was none of those, and I think there hasn’t been an episode like this one since the finale of the first season, “The Carousel.” Terrible, upsetting, poignant things happened in this last episode, especially all of the material relating to Don and Betty’s divorce. The scene when they have to tell Bobby and Sally what’s going on was intensely painful. But for the most part, “Shut the Door. Have a Seat,” was built to satisfy. All of the changes, the dramatic divisions and reunions, were developments of plots that had already been put into place, and the season has done an excellent job of priming us for some earth-shattering shifts. When it all collided into one big, wonderful mess in the nascent Sterling Cooper Draper and Pryce advertising agency, there were some surprises and tense moments, but for the most part, it felt like inevitable, satisfying change, and it felt like we earned it.

So many scenes from last night hit deeply satisfying notes, big and small. Perhaps the most important long-term development, the moment that has been stirring from Mad Men’s very first episode, was the final showdown between Peggy and Don when she forced him to acknowledge her worth. His pitch to her was all the more affecting because she was so aware of it, and was able to see both the pitch and the place where the campaign stopped and Don Draper began. The whole arc, from the earliest scenes of Peggy struggling to be a good secretary in season one, was given a lovely button at the end, as Roger told Peggy to get him a drink and she flatly, unapologetically, calmly refused. Perfect. In the same vein, Joan walking back into the office was as predictable as it was absolutely necessary, and I actually clapped my hands together with glee when I realized Roger would have to call her.

The whole Sterling Cooper meltdown was riddled with similarly pleasing moments. Don apologized to Roger, Lane Pryce cheerfully stuck it to smarmy St. John (has anyone good ever been named St. John? I hear his name and all I can think of is St. John Rivers from Jane Eyre, and I shudder), and Cooper begged the movers to put on gloves while carrying off his priceless Rothko. And Trudy. Maybe I loved her most of all, starting with her frantically filling the Chip ’N Dip to prepare for Don and Roger, to her strained “Peter, may I speak with you for a moment?” as she overheard Pete announce his plans to leave, to cheerfully providing sandwiches in the pitiful new office space/hotel room. Trudy has really grown on me.

The Draper family dissolution was awful. It was even more gut wrenching after Bobby’s hilarious line about why they were all in the living room if nothing was wrong. But even this, horrible as it was, was also satisfying. Like the doomed Sterling Cooper/PPL merger, it’s been clear from the beginning that Don and Betty’s union is shaky at best, built on deception and self-interest. There has been so much subterfuge and tense, uncertain, hidden emotion, that it was almost a relief to see it all dragged out into the open, including Betty’s relationship with Henry Francis. It was so artfully balanced with the changes in Don’s professional life, too, that what could have felt like an apocalypse instead felt appropriate. Don begged Betty not to break apart their family, but the whole process of building a new agency, and in particular the scene at the end with everyone hovering together over a meal, looked very much like a new family being made. It’s hard to see what could possibly come next between Don and Betty, but the new agency softens the finality of their split, promising challenges and growth in the future.

I have no idea what will come in the future or how long Mad Men will be on the air (at least one more season, hooray!), but this finale really did feel like a bookend to the whole show, not just for this season. The deaths of Sterling Cooper, the Draper’s marriage, and John F. Kennedy all feel like the final resolution of the themes set up from the first episode of the show. Now, at last, all of the powerful institutions from the show’s beginning have collapsed, and it feels like time to start all over again.

…but not until late next summer! Oh, the bittersweet satisfaction of a season finale.