For Rebecca

Friday afternoon, March 27, 2020. I’m at MIL’s [Editor’s note: Mother in law] house where I was watching my daughter (MIL called a truce so I could do this, but still insisted on dead naming me the whole time, but that’s another story.) MIL went to bring Wife home from the hospital. The surgery went well. I decided to check facialbook for the first time since early that morning.

That’s when I learned that my dear friend and mentor Rebecca Lohr died the night before. She’d been fighting leukemia for a while. One of her last facialbook posts also mentioned pneumonia.

Sometimes, you don’t know exactly when you met someone, but with Rebecca, I know exactly when:December 21, 2008. That was the night of my first Renaissance meeting. As I pulled into the parking lot, scared out of my mind, I saw a woman walking toward a door. I opened the car window and called out to her “Excuse me — I’m looking for Renaissance?” She turned and said “You’re in the right place. Welcome!” I learned that she was the President, or Group leader, or whatever the title was at the time. I walked in, carrying my girl clothes — no makeup — and my journey began.

After I’d changed and put on my wig, I went to the meeting area, where Rebecca saw me and smiled her Cheshire cat smile. I remember saying “I must be crazy” to which she replied“we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad. You must be or you wouldn’t have come here.” I laughed.She knew her Carroll.

Over time, I found Rebecca to be a very complex person. In so many ways she was a joyful mix of contradictions, yet they all made sense. That was just Rebecca. She seemed to be a bit of a loner, yet sought company. In her, I saw the Awful loneliness of genius. There were few who really understood the entirety of who she was. It took me years, yet eventually, I got it. She was a goth girl, yet wasn’t. Wiccan, yes, but solitary. Fan girl, but not obsessed. Mostly.

I’m glad I had those years.

If there was a TG event around Philly, Rebecca was there. Renaissance,Angela’s Laptop Lounge, Monday Night T-Girls, Raven Parties, Keystone Conference… she was there to lend support. Or maybe she just wanted company. Hard to know with her.

In many ways, her fandoms defined her. She was a sci-fi fan extraordinaire. You want to talk Doctor Who? She knew all about it. Obscure novel? Read it. Trek? Absolutely. Steampunk? Here’s the pictures. Ren fair? Let’s go!

Her biggest, most enduring love was Star Wars. I’m a HUGE Star Wars fan, and I like to think my knowledge is encyclopedic, but next to her, I was an amateur. Her Star Wars knowledge and collection was unparalleled. She had binders full of autographed photos of everyone involved — major or minor — in front of or behind the camera. She’d met Carrie Fisher so many times that they were on a first name basis. She regaled me with tales of drinking with Jeremy Bulloch (the original Boba Fett.)

She also had her music. She loved making music. She was in many bands, but Radium Angels stands out. Yet again, her music couldn’t be defined or pinned down — she fluidly moved between styles. They released their music as well.

She wrote and published books. She’s been shot at… She… wow, what didn’t she do?

How I’ll remember her most though, is that she was a regular at the bookstore where I used to work. She would come in two or three times a week, just to hang out. We’d talk, especially when I was stuck in the music section, which was usually slow. Prior to my transition, my speaking to her as well as a couple other transgender women) raised eyebrows. I smiled and said “they’re friends.”

After my transition, Rebecca became a mama bear at the store — no one was going to mess with me while she was around. On a few occasions, she took someone to task about misgendering or otherwise “othering” me, including, once, a manager. Often, Rebecca would wear her Tardis dress and carry her R2D2 handbag, just to watch people’s reactions. And we even had a little code for when I was being “watched” by management, or if I was really too busy to talk. It was her idea.

Since leaving the store, I didn’t see her as much. We’d chat through Facialbook. She couldn’t attend my “farewell gathering” as she was sick, but she sent encouragement. The last messages were so full of hope.

On my way back to State College, I looked up through the Twilight and looking down at me, a Cheshire Moon smiled. I pulled over as the tears began, yet I felt at peace, because I could just see Rebecca smiling at me from above. She was happy — No more Pain. As I watched, the moon was slightly obscured by a dreamy wisp of cirrus cloud, and I thought… how appropriate.

Sleep well Rebecca. The Force will be with you.

Always.

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Tags: featured, obituary, Rebecca Lohr

Category: Obituary