Recipes for Living Kris Ehler

I was born in Cedar Rapids at St. Luke's hospital on November 17, 1964 to Raymond and Janet Meyocks. That is an Irish name pronounced Meeks. Our Irish heritage goes way back, and I still feel that kinship. I have made several trips to Ireland. The first was when Dad took us girls when we were 13. Karen and I went back when we were 30, then Victoria and I went two years ago. I hope to take Jeremy for his first trip within the next two years. You will become acquainted with all these people as my story goes on.

My grandparents emigrated from County Mayo to the United States when Grandma was eight years old and Grandpa was ten. Their parents were good friends and it is my understanding that they left because there were no jobs and farming the land did not provide a living. I wish I had asked Grandma more about it because it must have been a strange experience for a child to leave the familiar and come to a new and strange place. She was an only child so she had no siblings to share what she was feeling. As far as I know, the travelers had no destination. Perhaps they traveled until they found land cheap enough to buy. They settled on farm ground near Urbana, Iowa.

There is evidence of the rift between Protestants and Catholics early in my ancestry. Grandma's mother died when Grandma was 16 years old. Grandma married when she was 18. Her father remarried but Grandma had left by then and lived with Grandpa's family. In the generation of my great-grandma and -grandpa, the families were Catholic. When Grandma and Grandpa chose to be Protestant, all relationships were broken off. There was no longer communication- with one exception. Grandpa's uncles weren't practicing Catholics so they didn't care what Grandma was. She was the only female left in the family, so Grandma took care of all the uncles. We have family reunions of the Protestant branch. Relatives Martins and Flahertys come, and they reminisce about the good times and bad- as children who grew up together, went to war together, came or did not come back together. It is fascinating to listen to their tales.

My full name reflects my Irish heritage. It is Kristene Iantha, most directly from my grandmother, but handed down for generations before her. I am blessed to have an identical twin sister, Karen Dantha, and an older sister by 13 months, Raylene Marie.

I don't know if there is any way to explain to someone who is not a twin how deeply the relationship between me and my sister goes. It is one of those things that you know with every breath you take. Karen is as much a part of me as my arm and vice versa. We were small babies. Each of us weighed just over six pounds. There was one ounce difference between us. I came into the world with a scratch on my nose - evidence that Karen wanted to come out first. She made it. There were six minutes between our birth times, and I spent my first three days in the world upside down getting rid of Karen's secretions.

We remained very small. At four years old, sitting in the car, our feet wouldn't reach to the edge of the seat. Even as babies no one could tell us apart. For a long time people didn't know what our names were, and we responded to, "Hey, you." I have said that I am really Karen and she is really Kris-Mom and Dad just got our names mixed.

Karen and I have always been best friends. Of course, from time to time we played the "twin game," switching roles. There was a lot of competition between the two of us. I was one step faster than she, but she could jump higher. However, there was never any question about allowing an outsider to compete against us. We have been and are very protective of one another. We made up our own little world. There was an old dairy bam on the farm, and it was our haven. One day it might be a museum, another a milking station, or a haunted house. It was a doctor's office a lot. In other words, it was anything our childhood minds conceived of.

Karen and I have always had our own language - even today- and it doesn’t take many words for us to be on the same thought pattern. Someone could write "remember when- - -," stop there, and both of us would remember the same incident. Our telecommunication is excellent. There was a time when I was very ill. Even though I was taken to the emergency room in the Marshalltown hospital, no one told my family. Karen just knew and showed up. When her baby was born, I knew the minute that happened.

That identical thought pattern hasn’t always been good. Karen and I were dressed alike until kindergarten, when we stopped wearing identical clothes, probably to draw less attention to ourselves. But we still buy the same clothes and show up at events with matching outfits. Nobody believes we haven’t planned it. At Dad’s retirement party we arrived dressed exactly the
same including shoes and coats. The same happened at Grandma's funeral-we showed up wearing the very same dress. Just last week we were at Dad’s house. I was dressed, ready for golf, and Karen came downstairs wearing the same-beige shorts of just a little different style than mine and a blue Tommy shirt. I took one look at her and said, "You bought that at Younkers for $7.99, didn't you? Go change." But she refused.

Dad signed up for the military when he was 17. Grandma wouldn't sign the papers until he said he was going to lie about his age and go anyway. He served as a telecommunications specialist in the Air Force in the Korean War. He spent his shift being locked in a room, sworn to secrecy. Later, he talked about some of his experiences, like the time that his best buddy was waiting for the announcement of the birth of his child. Dad had gotten the information that the baby had been born, but his commanding officer would not allow him to tell it. That was hard. Dad knew there was a possibility that his friend might die in battle and not know he was a father, but he could do nothing about it. When Dad came to certain parts of his story, he simply stopped and said what he had been told to say-that he had flown kites under bridges. I have every letter that he ever sent Grandma, and he wrote every week.

Our grandma was an important part of our lives. We spent every summer with her so Mom and Dad could take a vacation without us. One of my favorite memories is when, in the evenings after we had our baths and was ready for bed; she always took us to the Dairy Queen for an ice cream cone. There was one night when Karen was savoring hers and I ate mine fast, then she wouldn't share. She was standing between the screen and the inside door and I shut her in. Grandma opened the door and here was Karen with ice cream all over her face, but it was her fault. She was supposed to share.

Grandpa was an alcoholic. He and Grandma separated while Dad was in the service. Dad sent money to Grandma in Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin, for her to buy a farm. She put dairy cattle on it, took care of it, and worked three jobs to make ends meet and make the farm go. Dad had three younger sisters. Grandma essentially raised them on her own and sent them out to be very successful women. Grandma was a tough cookie, and one of the most wonderful women I ever met in my life.

When Dad was discharged from the service in October 1954, he went to Prairie du Chien and worked around that area until he and Mom were married on November 13, 1962. They bought a farm at the edge of Cedar Rapids. This was our home where we had quarter horses, pigs, and cows. So we grew up around race horses and all those wonderful little animals to take care of and clean up behind. Mom and Dad divorced when Karen and I were 13.

Karen and I were in the same classroom at school until they split us up in third grade. We couldn't perform without the other being there. It was like going to school without part of our bodies. They put us back together after third grade and we remained together until junior high, when we had separate classes. We played basketball and volleyball, and were always part of the choir. Academically, Karen was better in math, and I was better in science. So we shared a lot, but we didn't switch tests. We were on the honor roll on our own.

Even when we had different classes, we always arranged them so that we could have lunch together and share whatever was happening. When we began developing our own separate interests and were with different groups of friends, we would go together and then meet our group.

Karen and I both worked at the nursing home in Grinnell through high school. Grandma was a nurse's aide and had told us it was our responsibility to take care of older people because she was going to be one some day. She was probably 70 when she said that. No debate, we went to work at the nursing home.

However, Karen fell in love when she was 17 and married in the summer of 1983. That was a traumatic experience! I was her maid of honor, and both of us were devastated! We knew the tie would never be the same, but it was such a public separation that whenever we looked at one another we began bawling. Steve, the groom, was so patient. He understood our relationship and when the minister suggested that we just stop looking at each other, Steve said, "Just keep going. They'll be okay."

Karen continued working at the nursing home for another semester. She had taken enough class loads to graduate early. After I graduated, I went off to Marshalltown Community College. Karen had been saving money for college and enrolled in the same school in January 1984. Steve worked for Mannatt Construction, and they stayed in Grinnell. So Karen’s and my relationship really didn't change as much as we had feared. Steve was so accustomed to our talking without his understanding what we were talking about that he thought nothing of it.

After Karen was married in April, I met my children's father in June. Danny worked at DeKalb and was a typical frat boy. We met at a Fireman's Dance. He was a friend of a friend. I went to the dance with the friend and went home with Danny. I knew instantly that I would marry him. He was the person I had in mind right down to the pickup that he drove. We were married the following June in a tearless ceremony.

I finished nursing school in January 1985, and was pregnant with our first child, Victoria Iantha. We bought a new home in Gilman. I took my Board of Nursing classes on April 15, and Victoria was due the 16th, but we passed. She finally arrived on April 27. I stayed home for six months, but Danny got laid off so I went to work at the nursing home as charge nurse. That was hard on both of us. A new baby, a new house payment, and I was working for $6 an hour. It was right before Christmas, and for Victoria's first Christmas we rewrapped the toys she had so that she would have something to unwrap on Christmas Day. It wasn’t that we expected her to remember but it was tough for us!

When Danny was hired by Maytag, life was much better. I continued to work and Danny's mom took care of Victoria. We decided to buy a manufactured home and move it onto Danny's grandparents' farm. That is where we lived when I became pregnant with Jeremy. He was born in September 1988. Victoria was delighted to have a baby brother. We have pictures of her holding up toys to the nursery window so Jeremy would know what he had to look forward to.

The next years flew by. I continued to work, and in 1990 I decided to go back to school to get a degree in health care administration. I worked full time and went to school full time. Danny and I worked separate shifts and his mother helped out a lot! I finished school, the children started to school. They grew so fast! It is amazing how time gets away from us!

I continued to work at the nursing home where I had worked previously. My boss played golf with a board member of a nursing facility in Gladbrook. They were having lots of problems and he asked if I would help. I helped as their administrator for six months at the same time that I was assistant administrator at Grinnell. Danny and I decided that working two full-time jobs was too much, and that I would work in Gladbrook. We bought a home and moved there in '94.

At this point, telling the story becomes very difficult. Suffice it to say that Danny's interest took him somewhere else, and we will skip to something happy, which is Eric coming into our lives. He came to Gladbrook as the corporate maintenance man to do his annual inspection. That was how we met. About three months later we were renovating the old nursing home into an assisted living center, and he came to help with that process.

During that time, our friendship developed and he asked me out on a date. We went to Marshalltown to a Chinese restaurant. I'd never eaten Chinese food and liked it. There was an instant bond of communication. We talked for hours and hours. My children needed a positive male figure, and they bonded with Eric.

We began spending a lot of time with Eric and his family in Osceola, baling hay, helping with the horses, etc., and I was interested in seeing the nursing home here. My expectations were high because I thought Osceola was a beautiful town and that surely the nursing home would be similar. I was disappointed until I heard they were under renovation, and it is beautiful now.

When I ran into an old friend at a Care Initiative meeting, I remarked that if the home in Osceola ever needed an administrator, I hoped that I would be considered. They called within a month and offered me the job. They interviewed me; I interviewed the building, and accepted the position on July 4, 1999. I needed to start August 9, which caused some pressure because we were unable to find housing that was acceptable and affordable. In fact, there were only three houses available and we didn't know what we were going to do. We considered various options-Eric might stay with the children in Gladbrook and I would live with Eric’s parents, Marcia and Don Lange-but then God provided a perfect arrangement with perfect timing. Eric's grandparents, Glen and Maurene Poore, were ready to move and sell their home.

I moved here, and the children and Eric stayed in Gladbrook for two weeks. We moved enough so that we could live and the children could start school, then on weekends we continued to move our belongings from Gladbrook as time allowed. We love the house and have worked on renovation. It is even more special because it had belonged to Eric’s grandparents. We like Osceola. It is a growing community that has much to offer in the school system, entertainment, and exposure to different cultures.

I love working in long term care in spite of it being very difficult in this day and age with all the government rules and regulations that govern the services we can offer and the care we can give. Ours is the second most regulated business - second only to nuclear power plants. There are four forms and a doctor’s permission even to take a resident for a ride in your vehicle. I am greatly concerned for elderly people’s health and well-being that has deteriorated with lack of government support and family involvement. It is an every day concern for them to be able to afford prescription drugs and feed themselves. It breaks my heart to know that there are elderly people here in this community who has to make a choice between food and heart medication.

I consider it is such a privilege and honor that they allow me to work for and with them. I thank God every day that I have been able to meet such wonderful people through my work. I'd never have met them any other way. The elderly of today hold strong morals and high standards in the attitude that "I am going to take care of my community because they are my family." I don't see that in my generation or the one ahead of me. There isn’t the commitment to take care of others that they have. They can be so ill and in such great need, and yet they will find someone to take care of I don't think the general public recognizes the assets that they have.

When you come to the home, you won’t find me in my office very often. I love listening to people's stories. It is amazing what they have been through - the Depression or times of war when they didn’t know what was going to happen, sometimes not having a bite to eat. One person told me they ate crows, with an attitude of "that was o.k." Could our children understand what it was like to be grateful for a piece of candy at Christmas?

My Jeremy is now 12 and will be going into seventh grade. He is very involved with 4- H, has a little calf, "Lucky #7," and a quarter horse named DJ for Don and Jeremy. Both animals are kept at Eric's folks' farm. Jeremy golfs, plays tennis, is going out for football, and is experiencing his first crush.

Victoria is 16, a junior, and just got her own car, a Dodge Neon, which she calls "Larry, the Cucumber." History is one of her favorite subjects and she is politically astute. She dropped a cooking class to take another history course and would like to become an ambassador. She had the opportunity to be a U.S. Student Ambassador and was in Europe for four weeks, during which time she toured five different countries. She is very committed to making the world a better place. Victoria plays tennis for Clarke and is also a good golfer.

Our whole family plays bells together at church. It started as a mother/daughter thing and then Jeremy got recruited, so now it is a family thing. We try to do some project every summer, and the best one we have done was this summer when we all were involved in the drive to supply the Food Pantry. Youth First, in which Victoria is involved, was a strong promoter, and she helped me make the food boxes and two houses that were used at HyVee and Fairway. Twice a week she went to the 11 sites to gather all the donations and take them to the pantry. On the big day of the food drive, she recruited workers and helped coordinate them.

Jeremy was also involved and had a memorable experience when an elderly man, struggling to maneuver a walker, went into Hy-Vee. Jeremy saw him and was going to tell him "hello" and offer to carry his sack, when the man reached into his bag and gave Jeremy one of two cans of peas that he had bought. Jeremy remarked, “If we each would give just half to help other people, it would be so great. I hope I can grow up to be like that." Victoria had a different experience. A person who is prominent in the community came out of the grocery store and said, "I pay for my own groceries. I’m not a free-loader." So her lesson was that she hoped she would never be like that. I am glad to see positive attitudes in my children.

I am so glad that my children are community-oriented. They were raised in nursing homes and are sensitive to the elderly and to medical issues. We all seek opportunities to help in those areas. They suggest on my days off that we go to the nursing home. It is their idea, not mine. I could tell story after story of Jeremy in his walker and Victoria passing out medication with me. Hopefully they have learned the important lesson that you have to give back.

Even though I have concentrated on my life in telling this story, Karen and I remain as close as ever. She and Steve had a little girl, Stephanie, and for five years continued to live in Grinnell. After nursing school, Karen worked in the obstetrics ward, so we have enjoyed knowing that she brought people into the world and I was there when they went out of this world. Between us, we covered all aspects of life.

Karen started working for Bayer Corporation. The job requires that she fly out every Monday and back home every Friday. She wanted to move to be closer to Dad, who was living in Parkersburg. She had looked at houses but had not seen one that met all of her requirements. One night, when I had driven up to see Dad, Karen’s realtor called to say that he had a house that had just come on the market that day. He had one bid on it already but thought Karen should see it. Of course, Karen was out of town at the time but Dad and I went to see it, loved it, and put a bid on it for her. She returned at the end of the week to a house she had bought and not even seen. Thank God, she loved it as much as we did! Dad and I worried that we had probably pushed our authority a little too far.

Karen has continued to excel up the corporate ladder and is now a Regional Director. Stephanie is in eighth grade this year and is involved in academics, music, and softball. Dad is a great help and keeps Steph while Karen is gone during the week. Even though she is all over the world, we still get to see each other and visit most frequently.

My older sister, Raylene, is married and lives in Bettendorf. She has five children and is a great stay-at-home Mom. Carl Ray, her first child, is a junior at San Diego University. Cory is a freshman at St. Andrews, and Julie is a senior in high school. Josie is a first grader at a private school in Davenport, and Carmela is three years old. Raylene and her husband Joe are very busy keeping up with the family and running Joe's family business.

In summary, I have had a great life so far and can't wait to see what is next. God has given me such a great person in Eric. I did not think something so wonderful existed between a man and woman. There is wholeness in my life that has not been there before. He is gentle, kind, a hard worker, protective, funny, and provides well for his family. These positive attributes are embedded in him from his parents Don and Marcia Lange. Don and Marcia have helped us so much that we could never thank them enough. They house Jeremy's animals, have helped us renovate our home, and made us feel like family, taking care of our children and supporting us in our endeavors.

I have two great children that bring me joy everyday. I pray for our young people and the world we are creating for them. My work continues to motivate me to do better everyday and fight for what is right in a world that does not honor our elderly community as it should.

I continue to be involved in my dad's life and Karen's and enjoy that strong Irish bond that we have together. It is rare to have a shoulder to cry on and lean on during the rough times of our lives, yet I have numerous shoulders that I know I can trust. I am truly blessed with great friends, a loving family, and a wonderful career.