Disclaimer: This is an original story based upon the characters of Gilmore Girls. No profit will be made from this story and no copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Thank you to all who read and reviewed the last chapter of this story. I appreciate it! I hope you enjoy this next installment! By the way, if the end doesn't make sense—rewatch Rory's birthday

Previously on Gilmore Girls—Lorelai comes to her parent's house and we read through flashbacks of Emily's death. We find out that Emily left Lorelai a cedar chest full of knick-knacks and memoirs. There is a letter addressed to Lorelai on the top and she opens it and begins to read…

My Girl,

She hasn't called me that in years—only a few times, when she was mad at me. Like the time when I was caught by Paris kissing Max on Parent's Day. My mother was funny that way. She only used terms of endearment when she was angry or being sarcastic.

I am writing you under the oak tree in the back yard. If you are reading this, I have passed on.

"You died Mom, you died, you can say the word," I said with a sarcastic snort—trying to cover the pain

As I write this, I am thinking of you and trying to picture your reaction. Are you sad? Are you angry? Are you relieved? Do you feel anything? I don't know.

That one hurt. Did she really think I wouldn't care? I put down the letter…how did I feel? Was I sad? Was I angry? Yes—I was very angry. How could she have hid this from me? I was angry because she never gave me the chance to come back when she found out—I could have helped her, I could have been there.

Oh Lorelai, I tried to tell you so many times. I started so many letters, picked up the phone, there were even a few times when you picked up the phone and I just froze. I hung up and prayed you wouldn't do that star 72 thing or whatever number it was. I wanted to tell you.

Then why didn't you Mom? I wanted to scream it. I was so angry, so hurt. Why didn't she tell me!

Lorelai, I want you to understand. I didn't want you to come back out of pity. I didn't want you to come back because you felt you had to, and I certainly didn't want you to feel manipulated by this. You have been manipulated enough in your life Lorelai. I know that. At times it seems to be a disease I have. That was the last thing I wanted to give you—what you wanted. Your independence has always been so important to you. I wanted to respect that.

A tear trickled down my cheek. "You didn't respect my independence Mom. You didn't give me the choice to come back if I wanted to." I said out loud.

This cedar chest is for you. It was given to me by my mother, and I always intended it for you. I have filled it with treasures I hope will mean something to you. Each memento has an explanation or a story with it, and I hope by the time you reach the end, you will know me—the real me a little better. I have left explicit instructions that you are to do this alone, because in a way I'll be here with you and we can do it together.

I suddenly felt a pain of regret, remembering back to when she had wanted us to go to the spa together and I had gone out of my way to make it as unpleasant as possible. All she wanted was to do something together—and I'd ruined it for her. Her words resounded in my head, "Why can't we have what you and Rory have?" I blinked away the tears in my eyes, and read on. The bottom of the page had watermarks on it—from her tears, and it brought on another onset of my own.

Oh Lorelai, life goes by so fast. I have made so many mistakes—especially when it comes to you. I may not have been a good mother, but I want you to know—that no daughter in the world could be loved more than you are, and no mother in the world could be prouder than I am of you. And no one in the world could have more regret than I do right now because of the past few years and all we have missed. I am so sorry. Don't let this happen to you My Girl—and you know what I'm talking about. Let your mother have one last meddling. Repair your relationship with Rory. Well—it's almost seven o'clock, and you know what that means, dinner will be served shortly.

I love you,

Mom

I brushed my hands over the words I seldom heard, but in my heart of hearts, always knew were there. I folded the letter and placed it on my bed. Reaching into the box, I pulled out something that was wrapped in a green cloth. It was a small crystal bowl. I picked it up curiously and then put my hand to my mouth as I noticed the post-it note on the bottom of the bowl.

"I never had pudding from a crystal bowl before" Rory had said. Mom in all her weirdness and smiled and replied, "You like the bowl? Put a post-it on it."

I pulled out the post-it and read the words written on it.

"It wasn't a fluke. I wasn't on cold medicine. I was trying."