Dorian Mary (Martin, Sorenson) Rohrer was welcomed into the loving arms of our Lord Jesus in the early hours of Monday June 15, 2026, after a brief but rapid decline beginning in November. Born August 31, 1942, mom had a long and full life and passed away peacefully in the middle of the night. Mom outlived two husbands, our dads, the second one by nearly twenty years. I could write about the many places she lived and the variety of occupations she undertook, but it would not do our mother justice to describe her impact on those who knew her. She definitely had a long list of cool occupations from working at Boeing to driving the big mower at the Priest River Golf Course (afterwards she would pull a double shift as chef in the afternoons) but none of that ever defined her.In fact, as I sit here trying to do so, I realize she is hard to define. Rick and I sat with the funeral home director and were asked to put one word for her "occupation" and we were both at a loss. Mom worked everywhere when she needed the money and especially when she didn't. When the farm animals needed a cute cozy little barn to sleep in or her family needed a house or two built she was right there pitching in, boots on the ground involved in the work in every way. She instilled in everyone who she mentored that a good day being productive was only bettered by a day having fun.

No one had more fun than Dori and she made sure that everyone else did too. Even if she couldn't join; she would do whatever she could to make sure you did. I know the Long kids remember being packed in the back of our little Ford pickup with the canopy with all our ski gear heading to Schweitzer. When I was in middle school, mom would be waiting after school in the parking lot to go up night skiing every day of the week! I did my homework in the lodge because we were going to have fun, school night or no. When we were kids, she would ask us almost every day, "So, what are us little kids going to do today?"  Mom didn't coddle and she didn't listen to any complaining, telling us if we tried whining "It's good for you, builds character." That being said, if you needed someone to talk to, she would always listen and give loving advice. Mom's love language was food and that is perhaps my biggest take away from being raised by her. There was always good food and there was always room at the table. Dinnertime was sacred. In some ways, looking back on my teenage years, being home for dinner was her only "rule". Mom was a teacher, but her lessons were how to have a good adventure, how to be resilient, the importance of being productive and hardworking, and how to be a generous, loving human. Mom even taught teenagers how to go "cow tipping"! Mom never acted like she was telling you what to do, she just led by example and by living experiences with you. If you made mistakes, you didn't get in trouble so much as being told, "bummer for you". It seems to me that she taught everyone how to water ski, drive the boat, drive a stick shift, how to ride a horse, drive a tractor, and hunt whitetail deer.  No one was as effortlessly a more accurate shot or better recreationalist than she was. Most hunting seasons, she would get not only her tag, but dad's as well. When we moved to Washington, she picked up a muzzle loader to be able to legally shoot does vs bucks as she preferred the meat. It was never about trophy. She was just simply more than capable of anything she set her mind to enjoy. She knew how to thrive in this world, and she strived to experience it to the fullest. Everyone who knew her was blessed to experience it with her.

Mom was a mother to more people than I could list. Besides the three she gave birth to, she had two families worth of stepchildren with both of her husbands' kids. She raised grand-kids, welcomed nephews or nieces struggling to get along at home during rebellious teenage years, did three full school years with Japanese exchange students and would let anyone spend the night – but they all had to be home for dinner!

Growing up, I was often embarrassed by her striking up conversations with literally everyone about anything. Mom never met a stranger. Everyone loved our mom whether they just met her in passing in the checkout line or friends she treated like her own family. She always had a big smile and a laugh to share and she could joke and story-tell with the best of any of them.

I could write pages of stories of adventures and lessons learned, but anyone who is reading this who knew her, knows. If you know, you know. In this world there was only one Dori. Mom will be missed so much. Life will never be the same without her, but she is joining two husbands, her parents, her auntie and uncles, her brother and our brother, William, in heaven. So, we are content in the knowledge she is at home, safe and without suffering.

Rest in Peace, mom. We love you