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And, finally, my own account of my life with Luke Danes.
The first time that I met Luke Danes was after a particularly bad day at school. I was nine at the time, and my class was having a mother-father-child party that I had had to explain would only be mother-daughter for me. I�ve never exactly been fine with my father never being around, but I was usually able to not let the fact that he wasn�t there not rule everything I thought or did, but a few of the kids in my class decided to make fun of me all day, saying things that, to this day, hurt me a little when I think about them. My babysitter, a teenager from Stars Hollow High who my mom paid to pick me up after school and walk me to the Independence Inn where my mom was working as a maid, offered to buy me a treat to make up for my bad day, but the bakery we would usually go to was closed, so she suggested we try the new diner that had just opened up a few months earlier. My mom and I didn�t spend much time in town, we mostly only came in when I had school and for staples around the house, as we were, at that point, living at the Independence Inn and got most of her meals from there, so I didn�t know that there was anywhere in town other than the bakery I�d been in a few times that served fresh food. My babysitter and I went to Luke�s that day and he made me a burger and gave me a glass of root beer and, since it seemed to be a little slow, he listened to me talk about my day. I remember him asking me which kids had made fun of me, and he promised to talk to their parents because he knew everyone in town, because no one should be teased simply because their father didn�t stick around. Then he gave me a slice of pie and promised that everything would be alright. I trusted Luke instantly, even though he looked a gruff with his flannel and the backwards baseball cap and the stubble-beard he wore back then, and ever since that day when I was nine years old Luke has always been the man I have turned to when I needed a father-figure.
For years Luke has fixed everything in the Gilmore home, from the porch rail to every broken lock to dead appliances. He has basically completely put the house together again three times over; he probably knows that house better than my mother and I do.
In my entire life my father has managed to call me twice on my actual birthday, but I�ve never actually seen him or received anything from him. Most years I�m lucky if I get an acknowledgement two weeks after the fact. But Luke has never forgotten my birthday, or neglected a Christmas, and while he isn�t the best gift-giver in the world, he always tries and the fact that he remembers always means more to me than what he actually gives me.
Luke has always been there for me, no matter what the problem. When I was ten I got the chicken pox and couldn�t eat anything but mashed potatoes for nearly two weeks. My mother is hardly what one would consider skilled in the kitchen, but Like was always there with a bowl of fresh mashed potatoes, usually with corn or peas or tiny chopped carrots mixed in so that I was getting other nutrients as well, and he sat with me for hours while I cried because the itchy spots were driving me crazy and the fever was making me dizzy and I was getting sick of potatoes but there was nothing else that I was able to eat. When I needed to take shop class in junior high Luke was the first one I turned to, and he taught me the basics, then, after reworking his schedule, he took two full afternoons off to help me build something for the class, though now I can�t remember what it was. It didn�t work out perfectly, because he insisted that I do most of the work, but he was there and he helped me get a B in the class which was worlds away from the Incomplete I was sure I would be getting after sawing off a limb or something. When I moved into the dorms at Yale he drove between Stars Hollow and New Haven half a dozen times to bring my belongings out there, even though all he had promised was that my mother could borrow his truck. At least once a week, especially if I hadn�t come back to Stars Hollow that weekend, he would drive out with a supply of burgers and pie and other foods that I love but that weren�t served in the dining hall. It got the point where when he missed a weekly food-drop the other three girls in my suite got worried and tried to convince me to mount a rescue trip to Stars Hollow even though I knew that he had just gotten busy and that his visits to New Haven were more because he felt he needed to check up on me, make sure I was doing alright, because, as he has told me, he always thought of me as a daughter, which is good because I�ve always thought of his as a father.
When I found out about April I was shocked, to be sure, and thrilled that Luke had a daughter of his own because he had always been such a good father to me, and, yes, I admit to being angry that April�s mother had kept her a secret from Luke, not only because it was completely unfair to Luke, but it was also terrible for April. Having been on the receiving end of Luke Danes� fatherly love for most of my life I know how amazing it is to have Luke as a father. April would have been about two when I met Luke, and I am honored to have received the love that he should have been able to give to his own daughter for most of that time.