Because this is what I wanted to do when I found out Edward Herrman died. It's probably not the truest thing to any of the GG characters ever written, but I wanted to give him some sort of tribute since he was such a great actor.


"He wasn't supposed to go." Anything else Rory might have been trying to say was drowned out by another round of blubbering.

"Well kid, we did have some warning signs. His heart's been bad for years." Lorelai squeezed her daughter's shoulders attempting to be comforting. She didn't know how to handle her father's death. It had left her with a strange sort of hollowness. They certainly hadn't always been close, but they'd been something like it before he'd gone. She felt somehow that she was supposed to be missing him more though. He was her father. Instead of wanting to cry she mostly felt numb.

Rory nodded wildly, "But he always made it through. None of the other heart attacks killed him."

"Shh, it's alright." Lorelai pulled her daughter close, realizing there wasn't much that could be done for this sort of irrationality other than letting Rory cry it out. She almost wished that it wouldn't be heartless to point out to her daughter that something would have killed him eventually. She hated how cold she felt about this. She wanted to grieve for her father, if for no other reason than that he had been able to grow and accept Lorelai better as who she was rather than always trying to stuff her in the Gilmore box.

Rory cried for a long time, while Lorelai contemplated the desire she felt to cry with her.


"You gonna be okay?" Her dad asked squeezing her arm gently.

Rory nodded. Her grieving process was nowhere near over, but she wanted to be the one to give the eulogy at his funeral, even if she broke down and mostly just sobbed through the whole thing. She was a writer; she wanted to pay him this tribute with her words.

"Alright kiddo, we're here if you need us." Her father kissed her cheek and backed away to stand at her mother's side.

She looked out at the crowd and swallowed sharply. She cleared her throat. "My grandpa -" Her voice cracked, "My grandpa," She repeated, her voice filling a tad stronger this time, "was a great man. He excelled at business, I don't think there was a day in his life that he wasn't working for something. It's his hard work and drive that helped me pursue and fulfill my dreams of becoming a journalist, without his encouragement and help I would not have become the woman I am today. She may not always want to admit it, but my grandfather's influence surely helped my mom to realize her dream of owning her own inn. Richard Gilmore was a great husband, did what he thought best for his daughter, and of course, was a wonderful grandpa. The world is a much lonelier place for me without his strong and warming presence. In all the years I knew him, not once did I think he wasn't a man who wanted to do right by his family and look after them in his own way. Richard Gilmore was born..."

Lorelai sighed, a faint, but sad, smile, twitching across her face.

Chris noticed the brief expression. "Lore?"

"I'm glad she got to see her grandfather in such a positive light. That man she's talking about is not the same one I was raised by. But I'm glad she felt he was an example. I know my relationship with him was rocky, but it's nice to think he had such a good side too, even if it took me a long time, even in adulthood to really see any of it."

Chris nodded. "He wasn't perfect, but your father was a good man."

Lorelai took a deep breath, realizing she was admitting something rather huge. "I think that overall I'm glad he was my father, even with all my frustration growing up. If he can be such a good example for my kid, I really can't hate him anymore."

"That's good Lore." Chris whispered his attention returning to their daughter.

A single tear slipped from Lorelai's eye as some real grief for the loss her father crept into her heart. "Yeah, it is."