Rebecca Mohr

Grandma Mohr was always a frail thin lady.  I never knew her without white hair.  She began graying in high school from what she told me. She was devoted to her family and her husband and I never heard her say a mean thing.  She knew hard times and good times in her lifetime.  Her husband had times when he was quite a drinker, but she handled it well.  My dad was one of two boys born to Rebecca and in her golden years, he was always there for her.  She lived with us for several years when she was trying to pay off hospital debt left from my Grandfather's final few months in the hospital.  As long as I can remember, Grandpa and Grandma always had a dog.  Ace was the big black lab that they had in Minnesota.  Then later in California they had a doxy called Herman. Later they had a small tan mutt. 

Grandma was not much of a cook.  She did her best, but just did not have the knack.  Grandpa did a lot of the cooking, but loved the organ meats so their house always smelled like liver or kidney or whatever.  We kids could never get into that so we didn't eat much with them.

She died in her 90's after a stroke.  She had been living alone in her own appartment doing crossword puzzles and walking to town daily.  It was good for her to keep her strong and active.  My dad would go to her house and have coctail hour with her most nights.  After her stroke, she lived a few days, long enough for my mom and dad to come home from a trip and see her.  Whe dad walked into the room, and she heard his voice, her body began to quiver, letting us know that she knew it was him.  She never regained consciousness.