Recipes for Living Charles Arnold Family

On July 1, 2000, friends and relatives gathered for the memorial service for Charles (Charley) Arnold. The poem printed in the folder was very appropriate:

"God saw that he was getting tired and a cure was not to be,
So He put His arms around him and whispered, 'Come with me.'
With tearful eyes we watched him suffer,
And we watched him fade away.
Although we loved him dearly,
we could not make him stay.
His life was not an easy journey
with many stops along the way,
To give himself to those in need
so they could make it through their day.
He played many roles throughout his life
Husband, Father, Grandfather, Friend,
There's an empty place in all our lives
As we see such an important life end.
A golden heart has stopped beating.
Hard working hands are at rest.
God broke our hearts to prove to us
He only takes the best!"

His obituary reads: "Charles Alfred Arnold, son of Clarence Wesley Arnold and Theola Bott Arnold, was born November 27, 1916 in Murray, Iowa and departed this life on June 29, 2000 at the Iowa Methodist Medical Center in Des Moines, Iowa at the age of 83 years. "

Charles grew up in Murray, Iowa and graduated from Murray High School and also from Milwaukee School of Engineering. He served in the United States Army during World War II in the European Theatre.

"Charles married Anna Teno on April 25, 1945 in Murray, Iowa and three children blessed this union, Betty, Bill and Bob. Charles and Anna had lived in Ottumwa for two years before returning to Murray in 1947 when Charles formed a business partnership with his father. Charles was a self-employed electrician, furnace man and plumber.

"Charles enjoyed singing. He began early in life by singing in the Murray Methodist Church Choir next to his dad while his mother played the organ. Charley actively participated in choirs in Murray, Osceola, and Altoona, Iowa.

"Charles was a member of the William-Lochrie Post #405 of the American Legion in Murray, Iowa, the Murray Lions Club and the United Methodist Church of Osceola, Iowa.

"Charles was preceded in death by his wife, Anna in 1992; his parents, and an infant brother.

"He leaves to cherish his memory his daughter Betty Arnold of Altoona, Iowa, son Bill Arnold of Murray, Iowa, and son Bob Arnold and wife Cindy of Leon, Iowa; three grandchildren, Sam, Anna and Sadie Arnold of Leon, Iowa; two sisters, Twyla Jeter of Murray, Iowa and Gerry Johnson of Hutchinson, Kansas, cousins, nieces, nephews, other relatives and a host of friends.

"Charley was known for his warm hugs. It was his way of greeting friends and showing his appreciation for the help given him by others. He will be missed by those who knew and loved him."

As told by Betty:

I was born in Ottumwa in the short time my folks lived there. Daddy worked there before he went into the service in 1941. Mama stayed in Ottumwa and worked at a war plant. Daddy served in the Army in the European theatre. His unit repaired the big trucks and tanks, but Daddy's work was mainly clerical. He was a Supply Sergeant routing supplies to wherever they were requisitioned. Until I was in college, I couldn't get him to talk at all about the war. Apparently it was very difficult even though as far as we know he wasn’t in the actual fighting.

When Daddy returned, he and Mama were married in April 1945. I was born in 1946, we returned to Murray in 1947, and Daddy went into business with Grandpa. Bill was born in Osceola in 1948. I call Bill my big brother because he often keeps me on an even keel, but I am actually older. My being only two years old when he was born made me feel very close to him, and I remember a time when he was ill and we had to bring him to Dr. Stroy's hospital. After they examined him, they came out and said they were going to shoot him. I started to cry because I didn't understand that what he needed was a shot.

I consider Mama to have been a woman before her time. She didn't have a high school education but she was a good worker and could always find a job. When we were doing our homework, we would read something to her and even though she might not have been able to identify why it wasn't right, she knew something was wrong and helped us correct it. She spent several years as a bookkeeper at Burchett's Insurance Agency in Murray.

Bob was born in 1953. Bill and I were staying with grandpa and grandma and Daddy came to ask if we wanted a baby sister or brother. Bill said "sister" and I said "brother" so I suppose I thought I had won. We all three played together-games like Cowboys and Indians, riding our bikes and spending a lot of time outdoors. Our neighbors, the Browns, had a vacant lot to play on and five sons to play with, so we had lots of ball games. I was considered a tomboy, preferring baseball to dolls.

We all three graduated from Murray. There was talk during our school years about reorganization, and none of us expected to graduate from there. But the whole community joined together with the school administrators and board members to learn what needed to be done to remain independent. By aggressively applying for grants they have kept current with curriculum and technology. The school's rating is high and we are proud to be Murray alumnae. That includes Daddy, his two sisters, his parents, my brothers and I, three of our cousins and four of our cousins' children. We are also proud of cousin Denny Jeter who has been president of the school board the last several years and has received several state awards for his outstanding leadership. Even though we have no children currently in school, we, like many Murray citizens, are very supportive and proud of the school.

Ours was a musical family. We children all took piano lessons and played in the band. Bob and Daddy sang many duets while I accompanied them. I was the church organist in the Murray Methodist Church and in Osceola. I dated my music like my grandmother did, and I note that one page is marked 1961, so I have been playing for church for many years. I commuted from Altoona to Osceola to play on Sunday mornings but asked that they find a replacement because it was too difficult for me to come back for choir practice on Wednesday nights. That required that I finish my school day, drive an hour each way to Osceola and back, and then do my homework. It was more than I could handle.

All three of us got a college education by working and applying for scholarships. I admire Daddy so much when I realize what was required for him to attend college from 1934 to 1938 during the Depression. For someone to go to college in those days, sacrifices were required by the entire family. He had to work two or three jobs just to pay for his education, contributing nothing to the family income. When he came home, which wasn't often, he hitched rides on trucks coming out of Milwaukee. In later years, when he was driving with the family, it bothered him to pass a hitchhiker. However, he knew times had changed, and he was not willing to put us in danger.

Bill and I graduated from Northwest Missouri State in Maryville, and Bob from the University of Iowa in Iowa City. My degree was in education and I also went on to get a Master's degree from the same school. Bill's degree was in education and safety, Bob's in physical therapy.

I went immediately to Des Moines, which was interesting and ironic. It was the last place I ever thought I would go to work. I had to do an interview in order to get a teaching job, and to practice for it, I visited with a school representative. His position required him to visit colleges to recruit teachers for the Des Moines District. I was surprised a week after interviewing to receive a contract from Des Moines and I hadn't even filled out an application. I interviewed with other school districts afterward and didn't find anything that compared to the Des Moines system and salary. I signed a contract to begin teaching in Des Moines and a month later received a letter from the business office saying they couldn't find my application. It was still in my desk drawer in Maryville. So I filled out my application after I got my contract.

Altoona was the closest to the first school where I taught so I took an apartment there. During my first year of teaching, Mama was diagnosed with breast cancer. She had a mastectomy and radiation treatments. Because it was necessary for her to go to the hospital every day, she lived with me. She recovered and had been cancer free for 20 years when she died in 1992 of congestive heart failure.

After 32 years, I am still teaching in Des Moines. All that time I have only taught in two schools. I was at Hoyt Elementary for four years before they turned it into a middle school. I moved to Pleasant Hill Elementary and have been there ever since. I have taught fourth and fifth grades and am currently teaching third. I enjoy that age, their educational level and the challenge they give me. At the first of the year, they are still second graders and dependent on the teacher. By the time they leave, hopefully they are more independent workers, ready for fourth grade.

I have observed how important it is for parents to be involved in their children's education by teaching them everyday skills like learning to tell time, how to count change, their basic math facts, etc. It is vital to read with children.

I am very proud of the fact that my two brothers and I are in jobs where we are serving others. Bill is a dispatcher at the Clarke County Sheriffs office, putting to use the safety education he received in college. He was a member of First Responders and the Murray Fire Department and was their Fire Chief for several years. He had to give that up when he began working for the sheriff.

Bob is the physical therapist at Decatur County Hospital and has worked with several people in the Clarke County area. He is involved with the United Methodist Church, chairs the Creston District Lay Speaker program, and does a lot of lay speaking. Leon Loving Chapel is in a charge with three others churches and the appointed pastor depends on laity to cover two of the
pulpits each Sunday.

Bob married Cindy Erickson of Minot, North Dakota, and they have three childrenAnna, Sam, and Sadie. Cindy is a fulltime homemaker and very proud of that. Sam is now a senior at Central Decatur High School, interested in sports and computers. Anna is quite involved in music and enjoys singing. She also is a pianist for the churches in Leon and Grand River. Sadie has a love for animals and would some day like to be involved in taking care of them.

People often seem to have an impression that teachers work the school hours that children attend for nine months out of the year and have three months' vacation. That is far from the case in either instance, and it is amazing how the summer fills with obligations for my further education. If I have time, I travel with my widowed aunt, Gerry, because she likes to go places and see new things. We've been to Canada and the British Isles.

For 16 years I lived in the apartment in Altoona and then bought a house. I am very fortunate to have had some wonderful neighbors! The one on the south shares garden produce and a retired couple across the street are so good to me. Neighbors, Eric and Ed, kept my lawn mowed this summer while I spent time with Daddy in the hospital. I am presently having Mother and Grandmother withdrawal because the couple next door are moving and taking their two-year old son and Frank, the dog. They and I have shared joint custody of Frank-they claim him when he does something good but he becomes my dog when he does something bad. They know when I am at the door because he has a specific bark for me that is different from that for everybody else. When he gets out of his fenced yard, he heads straight across the street to my back door and a treat. It is just fortunate that cars have stopped in time to miss him because all he has on his mind in those moments are the Doggie T-bones on my back step.

Daddy suffered for years from mysthenia gravis, which attacks the muscles in the body, making it difficult to walk, breathe, and swallow properly. He had it before Mama died, but with medication he was able to control it. It was in remission for about five years but then we noticed his right eyelid drooped badly when he got tired. That is one symptom doctors use to identify a muscle problem.

His ailment became active during the last three years of his life. He had to relearn how to swallow and we had to be careful of the kind of food he ate. Milk products caused heavy secretions and the phlegm would often choke him. He came to live with me in the wintertime because he was highly susceptible to infection or colds which could cause pneumonia. We were concerned that if he had any infection and was far from his doctor, he might not be diagnosed correctly or soon enough.

At the end of March 2000, he moved back home to Murray and became quite independent. However, he was not walking as well as he had been in Altoona. When he was with me, he sometimes walked 16 blocks a day but that lessened until finally he was only walking four with great difficulty. In January and March he fell, and from then on used a cane in case he needed to be steadied. He had been on Prednisone for three years and when he saw the doctor at the end of May, we agreed with the doctor's decision not to increase the dosage. Granted it would have made him a little stronger when he was walking, but the side effects of that medication can cause osteoporosis and as the dosage increases, so does the risk.

Sam, Annie, and I had plans to take Daddy out for lunch for Father's Day, but Bill called that morning. He'd found Daddy lying across the bed and when he didn't give sensible answers to questions, Bill thought he must have had a stroke. Bill called the Rescue Unit and they were on the way to Osceola when he called me. By the time I arrived at the hospital, the doctors had determined that he had not had a stroke. They had done a blood test which revealed that it was a heart attack. He had none of the classic symptoms and we learned later that heart attacks are called silent killers. Sometimes there are no symptoms. Because local doctors were uncertain about a possible reaction of mysthenia medication and one they might have prescribed for a heart attack, we had him transferred to IMMC (Iowa Methodist Medical Center). His neurologist, Dr. Struck, took over at that point.

On Sunday afternoon and Monday he was just fine. He was responding. His heart rhythm was beginning to settle down, and he didn't remember anything having to do with the heart attack. I received a call about 5:30 Tuesday morning that Daddy was having difficulty breathing. They wanted to put him on a ventilator and by the time I got to the hospital that had been done. From then on, the only way he could communicate was by squeezing our hands or opening his eyes. I called Bill at the sheriff’s office and he came as soon as he was off duty. When he arrived, we met with the cardiologist who told us that Daddy was in serious trouble. Bob, Cindy, and Sadie were on a trip to Michigan but we contacted them and gave them the report. They immediately started back to Iowa.

Tuesday, Wednesday, and through Thursday morning, Daddy could still respond to our directions to squeeze our hands or open his eyes but about noon on Thursday he wouldn't respond in any way. By Saturday CCU (Coronary Care Unit) doctors were perplexed. Daddy's heart rhythm had steadied but they couldn't figure out why he wasn't waking up. They wanted to do a brain scan.

They did a brain scan and determined that Daddy had suffered a massive heart attack on Tuesday, and it had nothing to do with a breathing problem. The reason he wasn't waking up was that his brain had been without oxygen for a period of time. The part of the brain that controlled his heart and other bodily functions was still doing its job with the help of the ventilator and other medication.

By this time we are at the weekend so we left everything as it was. Monday some of specialists were asking how aggressively we wanted the treatment to continue. Did we want the ventilator to be taken out? If so, they would put in a tracheotomy tube and keep him on oxygen. Daddy had a living will, specifying that he did not want to be kept alive by artificial means, but even so we were not ready to make that decision. We met with several specialists on Tuesday and decided that the aggressive treatment with medication was to stop, but he was still to receive fluids and the mysthenia medicine.

Wednesday the internist became more insistent that we make a decision about the ventilator and how we were going to keep Daddy alive because some of his organs were showing signs of shutting down. He said that even if they took him off the ventilator temporarily, it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to breathe on his own, and that if he regained consciousness, he probably wouldn't be able to communicate with us and would likely spend the rest of his life being on oxygen and in a comatose state.

We did a lot of praying and crying and talking and listening to advice from many people. We made the painful decision on Wednesday to have the ventilator removed with the stipulation that he be kept on oxygen, so he wouldn't struggle to breathe, and on enough medication to keep him comfortable. Our internist also wrote an order that unless a private room was available, Daddy was not to be moved out of CCU. IMMC was so busy this past summer that there was a 75% chance that we would not get a private room, but about 5:30p.m. Wednesday a room became available and they moved Daddy to his own room. We spent the next several hours telling him goodbye. We were given the option of spending the night with the assurance that we would be made as comfortable as possible. However, it seemed wise for all of us to go home, get a good night's sleep, and return in the morning.

Our experience with Mama's death led us to think there would come a time when we would be told that Daddy was slipping away, but the night nurse called from the hospital about 6:50 Thursday morning and said Daddy was already gone. He was in that private room from 5:30p.m. Wednesday to just before 7:00a.m. Thursday, which was the reason we chose the poem that was in the folder used at the memorial service. Every part of it seemed to fit Daddy precisely.

As we had done at Mama’s funeral, we also did at Daddy's-we chose not to stay secluded in the fellowship hall at the church. People were amazed that we stood out in the narthex and greeted people, but we wanted to be with our friends and loved ones as they came in. Daddy and Mama were very warm, outgoing people and they left us that legacy. Besides, we had done so much of our crying at the hospital and earlier that day, that when the time for the service came, we didn't have any tears left even though the sadness was there. Our parents also instilled in us a very strong faith that they are back together again and their suffering is over. There is no way that we would have been able to get through that period of time without a strong faith bolstered by the compassion shown by the doctors, nurses, family, and our friends.

At one point I thought I might have to take this year for a leave of absence. I would have been assured of a job but not necessarily at the same school, and I was not willing to part with my supportive friends at Pleasant Hill. I really think that is of utmost importance. When we go through difficult times, we need people we can reach out to.

And so life will go on. This summer the boys and I have been sorting through Daddy's household belongings and reliving memories. The hard part is deciding what is to happen to all the memorabilia. We constantly face the most basic decision that we all make throughout our lives-what do we keep and what do we have to let go?