Deborah Dee Arndt (Debbie)

Deborah Dee Arndt (nee Pratt) of Lino Lakes, Minnesota, passed away peacefully on October 9, 2025 at the age of 74.
Although her traumatic brain injury in December 1991, and later dementia, created tremendous loss and struggle in her day-to-day life, the core of Debbie was always present. Her struggles over many years and then dementia taught us to cherish and live in the present moment. We rejoice that her soul is now free of the body and mind that held her captive for many years.
Debbie was born on March 2, 1951 to Neil James Pratt and Marlys Aileene Pratt (nee Meers), the second of six children. She grew up in Anoka, Minnesota and attended Anoka High School. She had many fond memories of growing up in a home in Ramsey, Minnesota, on the Mississippi River surrounded by her many siblings, cousins and friends. She married, had two children, and later divorced. She worked for Unisys for many years, and returned to education to earn a BA from the University of Minnesota - Twin Cities. Her plans to work as a child psychologist were derailed by her traumatic brain injury.
Debbie had many interests. She was a talented writer, who enjoyed reading and writing poetry, creating oil paintings and crocheting. She loved to sing and she rarely encountered a crossword puzzle she couldn't solve. Debbie loved to laugh and had a bit of an indelicate sense of humor, much to the delight of her grandchildren. She was a fan of long phone calls and enjoyed a deep conversation contemplating life's big questions.
Debbie was preceded in death by her father, Neil James Pratt; mother, Marlys Aileene Pratt; and brother, Joseph Neil Pratt. She is survived by her daughter, Allison (Michael) Frasier; son, Eric Arndt; grandchildren, Sophia Fraiser, Thomas Frasier and Vivienne Frasier; siblings, Maureen (Peter) Rizzo; Norman (Debbie) Pratt; Danielle Thompson; and Jennifer (Tom) Hoxter, as well as many nephews, nieces, and cousins.
It will forever be in my, her daughter's knowledge, that I was deeply loved by her, as not a visit or phone call ended without her telling me so. If she could spend one more happy and free day on earth, I imagine her with a crossword in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other, surrounded by her family. She'd tell us jokes and sing us a song. She will live on in our hearts, our laughs, and our stories for years to come. A celebration of life will be planned for a later date.