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- [00:00]
Rosetta Stone Representative
As we approach the end of the year, I'm thinking about the next. Next year is the year I finally make my Spanish better than my 9 year olds. Rosetta Stone is the most trusted language learning program available on desktop or as an app, and it truly immerses you in the language that you want to learn. I can't wait to use Rosetta Stone and finally speak better than my 9 year old who's been learning Spanish in his own way. Rosetta Stone is the trusted expert for 30 years. With millions of users and 25 languages offered spoken Spanish, French, Italian, German, Korean, I could go on fast language acquisition. Rosetta Stone immerses you in many ways. There are no English translations, so you can really learn to speak, listen and think in that language. Start the new year off with a resolution you can reach today. The Moth listeners can take advantage of this Rosetta Stones lifetime membership for 50% off, visit rosettastone.com moth that's 50% off. Unlimited access to 25 language courses for the rest of your Life. Redeem your 50% off@RosettaStone.com Moth Today.
- [01:09]
Dan Kennedy
Welcome to the Moth Podcast. I'm Dan Kennedy. Don't forget, if you want to avoid the shopping mall this holiday season, just go to storethemoth.org we have moth CDs, we have moth T shirts, we have Moth onesies for all the infants on your list. We also have Moth mugs. So if you like to shop partially clothed in the privacy of your own home, go to store.themath.org and get your holiday shopping done today. This week we bring you two stories from our Story Slam series. And by now you probably know that our Story Slams are the open mic competitive version of the moth. So these are our storytelling competitions and the first story we're going to hear by Stacy Keane was told live earlier this year at a Story Slam in Pittsburgh sponsored by WESA and wyep. The theme of the night was Love Hurts.
- [02:12]
Stacy Keane
So my first true love was my grandpapa. And you know, he really set the precedent for every other man I ever considered loving. He was clever, but really modest and brave but quiet, you know. And so when I was an adult and I found out the great news that I was pregnant with my first child, the first person I wanted to tell was my grandpapa, except that he had just found found out a week before that. He had four weeks to live and the phone call was the same as every other phone call. Hey Grandpapa, I got good news and I told him and his response was, well, poopsie you go put your feet up and have a glass of milk. You give your old grandpapa a call tomorrow. And that started this beautiful tradition of every night calls to my grandfather while I was pregnant. And, you know, I'm very aware of the fact that he's defying the odds every night when I call him, and he's still there to take the call and hear about my condition and tell me about, you know, when my grandmama was pregnant with her kids or when my mom was little or, you know, the stories he laughed the most about were when he told me about me in my babyhood. And the responsibility of keeping that lifeline going was really heavy, but beautiful. I appreciated it. And about a week before my last month, he ended up going to the hospital. And I went into premature labor that night. And while I was giving birth in the room, literally the room below him, at the Union town Hospital on June 29, 1997, he was holding on, and I was bringing my son into the world. And the next day, you know, I smuggled information with my sister up to him that night. It's a boy, and he's going to share your middle name. And, you know, she came down and said, oh, he really wants to see him. So the next morning, my mom came in and she had, like, a bag full of clothes for the baby, some for me. I'm like, what are you doing? I don't go home till tomorrow. And she's like, get dressed. Hurry up. So she's dressing Morgan in clothes and wrapping him in a blanket. And she's like, we're going upstairs. Come on. So she holds on to Morgan as if somehow she's not going to get caught by the nurses. And I'm wearing a sweatsuit that doesn't really fit. I'm all sweaty. Just had a baby. I can't hide this. So we're walking past the nurses station, and I know they know who I am. They know me intimately, you know, And I just look at them like, please don't say anything. And for some reason, they didn't. And my mom and my baby and my sister and me all snuck upstairs to see my grandpapa. And he held Morgan and he whispered some things to him, and he told me he was proud of me. And, you know, he laughed until he peed himself because we. Because we smuggled my son up to see him. And he's like, I'm so glad you guys did a deviant act for your last, you know, act for me. And so it was a funny and beautiful situation. Went back down to my room and apologized to the nurses. And they scolded me and cried at the same time. And so the next day, my grandfather and I were both discharged from the hospital. I was going home to start my new life with my new child, and he was going home to die. And after he passed away, I really missed those stories that we used to tell on the phone while I was pregnant. And the last story that I got to hear was from my mom. It was about him. And she called and said, hey, you know, I think grandpapa would want you to know this. Now, two days before he heard that you were pregnant, he had decided to go through with assisted suicide because he had been living with cancer for so long and been given four weeks to live and decided that he didn't want to suffer the last four weeks. And then you came to him and said, you know, grandpapa, I'm pregnant. And he was like, I'm going to stay for nine months. I'm going to do this. I'm going to stay alive and see my great grandchild and be there for my granddaughter. And his doctors thought he was ridiculously crazy, but he did, you know, and he died the day I brought my son home. And now I know that he loves me as much as I loved him.
- [07:07]
Dan Kennedy
Stacy Keane is an aspiring children's book author who lives in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania with her husband and two amazing children. Her lively family provides her with plenty of inspirations for her stories. She aims to share tales that touch people's hearts and inspire them in turn. The next story you're about to hear was told live at a Moth Story slam last year here in New York City City by Robert Weinstein. The theme of the night was ego. Here's Robert.
- [07:40]
Robert Weinstein
In 1998, I went to visit my Grandma Rose in an old folks home in West Plumfield, Michigan. At the time, she was 90 and I was 28, and I was about to go off for two years of grad school. This was the last time I ever saw her. Now, she'd been living there for about 15 years and I'd been to visit her a lot. But lately, at that time, it was becoming a little bit sadder. One reason was because the place was full of people who were sort of grasping at the last stages of their lucidity, but even more. And that might sound like a horrible thing to say, and I kind of felt bad for thinking it, but the other reason was that it was taking her longer and longer to recognize me, and I didn't know how to handle that. But when I saw her on this day, she was really excited because in the common room, they had a Sunday bar, Perry Como Music Hour. And I'm not a big fan of Perry Como, and I'm not a big fan of Ice Cream, but I'm a really big fan of Rose. So I was like, let's go. And when we got there, it didn't make my discomfort any better. First of all, the Peri Como was coming from a boombox that was at one end of the room. And there was this great big chasm. And the other end, all these people were seated, and they were just staring at it. And my grandmother and I rolled over there, and she introduced me to everyone, saying, this is my grandson, and he's going to Paris. And they responded, how nice to meet you and how handsome you are, and that's very nice. And then when everything was said and done, we just kind of settled. And I became one of them. And we just stared at that boombox. And this silence was broken, though, by this woman in a wheelchair who was sitting next to me who asked me if I'd ever heard of Perry Como before. And I told her I had. And she told me how much she loved him. Then she told me the story about during the war. Her husband and all the men in her town were all fighting. And they really missed the men. But what they really missed was dancing. And they missed it so much that they would rent out a gymnasium once a month and get a record player, and they would play songs. And her favorite was Perry Como. And she went off into her head for a little while. And she looked like she was really enjoying herself. And finally she said, I really miss dancing. And I said I was really tired of feeling uncomfortable. And I didn't know what else to say. So I said, do you want to dance? And she said, yes. So I wheeled her out into the Grand Canyon that was separating the people from the boombox. And I lifted her arm up and twirled under it. And I twirled her. Her wheelchair around. And we laughed a lot, and we smiled a lot. And when it was over, I wheeled. I thanked her, wheeled her back. And I noticed a lot of little old ladies smiling at me. So I asked. So I asked another one to dance, and she asked someone else to dance. And we danced again. And then we split off. And pretty soon we had our. We had snowballed into this great big geriatric cotillion. And it was really. It was quite something. And while I was dancing, I remembered this thing that my Grandma. I remember my grandmother's 75th birthday. And we were at this restaurant called the Pickle Barrel. And we were eating pickles out of this small barrel on a table. And I asked her what it was like to be 75 years old. And she said, she said without even thinking, she said, it feels like it always does. She says, my mind still feels very young, 18, but my body just won't do the things I want it to do anymore. Then she told me this theory that she had where people locked in to a certain age and they stayed that way for the rest of their lives. And it was kind of amazing. So back at the dance, I saw my grandmother across the room and of course I danced with her. And it was really great. I mean, when you're. When you're watching someone decline, it's really easy to get caught up in the deterioration, forget how much you love that person. It was at this moment that I realized why that place made me feel so uncomfortable. It was good old complicated fear. It was a bunch of fears, actually. It was fear of watching her grow older and my powerlessness to do anything about it. And also the thought of losing her and my powerlessness to do anything about that. And then I realized, watching everyone, that if I felt that way, I couldn't even imagine what these guys felt like. And so the ice cream came and some people stayed dancing and some people made a beeline for the cart and everybody was eating and dancing and they looked like the ages that I presumed they felt. And they lit that room like chandeliers. And I stayed dancing with my grandmother. And I've realized over time how rare it is that you get to see someone as they see yourself, as they see themselves. And there I was with this 18 year old woman who was dancing with someone she loved, who loved her back. And I felt very, very lucky. Thank you.
- [12:57]
Dan Kennedy
Born in West Bloomfield, Michigan, Robert studied theater in Kansas, France and Italy before moving to Brooklyn in September 2000. Though he performs from time to time in New York City, he's currently pursuing an information and library science degree from Pratt Institute. He misses his grandmother like crazy. The Moth is a non profit organization, so consider supporting our free podcast by going to our podcast contribution page or by becoming a Moth member. You can do that@themost.org Dan Kennedy is.
- [13:32]
Stacy Keane
A writer and performer living in New York.
- [13:34]
Rosetta Stone Representative
He's been a part of the moth community since 1999. Follow him on Twitter an KennedyNYC.
- [13:42]
Dan Kennedy
Thanks to all of you for listening and we hope you have a story worthy week Podcast audio production by Paul Ruest at the Argo studios in New York. The Moth Podcast and the Radio Hour are presented by Peter Prx, the Public Radio Exchange, Helping make public radio more public@prx.org.