Emily wants to be mom, just for a little while.
She's been a mommy, although it didn't last long. Mommy was too messy for Emily, too confusing with its constant cries of "hold me" and "fix it" and "whywhywhywhywhy?" Emily never had the constitution for mommy, so mommy went away with effort and training on her part.
Mama was never an option. There's not enough ethnic, too much blue in her blood, for her to be a Mama, and they both knew it early on. Mama makes food and Mama sews buttons and Mama keeps an eye on you when you swim too far in the deep end of the pool. Emily is not, nor will she ever be, anybody's mama.
Emily knows that mother is a two-edged sword. Mother is a nice, respectable title, and when used with respect, can be very dignified and elegant. But mother, no MUH-THUR, as pronounced by a gum-chewing fourteen year old, or a distracted thirty-two year old who never really wants to take your calls but gets caught every once in a while…MUH-THUR can cut through the skin straight to the vital organs and leave you bleeding to death from the pain.
But mom. Mom is what she wants to be, mom is what she dreams of when she allows herself the luxury of hope. When she allows herself to think that maybe, just maybe, the stars will align and the gods will be generous and she and Lorelai will have one moment of connection.
Mom is what girls call their mothers when they love them. Mom is fun. Mom is cool. Mom gets the references, those non-stop zingers that has everybody but Emily cracking up with laughter.
Mom is loved, and loves in return, and knows just where to buy the best shoes on sale.
Emily wants to be mom, just for a little while.
End