Steven Harowitz: 0:06
Hello, Internet. I'm Steven Harowitz, the director of Campfire. You are listening to Campfire at Home. It's our way of bringing our live experience to you, whether that be listening and reflecting by yourself or experiencing it with friends. Each Campfire invites listeners into discussions about life and how we live it. Before we get too deep into Campfire at Home, what you're listening to, we want to share a few opportunities for you to get involved beyond our live show or this podcast. We offer public speaking and storytelling classes and coaching for individuals and training workshops for organizations. If you or your organization are interested in becoming great public speakers and storytellers, visit cmpfr.com. That's c m p f r dot com. Each Campfire Season poses a life question that is explored by our Campfire Fellows, together with our audience. We're doing something a little new and having our class graduates share stories at a showcase event. They're not quite answering the exact question, but they're telling stories that relate to the main theme of the Season. So let's go to The Stage at KDHX to listen to the students' stories on responsibility.
Steven Harowitz: 1:19
Last, but certainly not least, Delores is gonna take us home, and Delores is dedicating her story to people who choose to give care to others. So please help me welcome Delores to the Campfire.
Delores Martin: 1:38
Growing up, I heard a lot of life lessons from my parents, most of them I have forgotten, yet there is a conversation that my dad had with me when I was being a bit of a juvenile delinquent that has stayed with me. It has shaped the way that I respond to circumstances in my life. He said to me, "Delores, you will have to face the consequences of the choices that you make." Now, that was pretty heavy for a junior high girl. But as I told you, it stayed with me. When Sam and I met, it was lust at first sight. I was hot for him, and he was hot for me. We wanted it to be more than that. So we stepped away from the passion. We built a friendship which resulted in us building a life together. About 15 years into our journey, um, my mom, uh, was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Now, up until this point, neither one of us thought about being caregivers, neither one of us. It wasn't in our plan. We understood the ups and downs and highs and lows of marriage, but not care-giving. We just hadn't done that. My younger brother and my younger brother and sister responded to the news like a deer in headlights. I watched a thriving independent woman whose whole life had been about meeting the needs of others broken down by, by this cancer. When Mom got to a place where she needed assistance with daily living, Sam and I moved her into our home. When Mom got to a place where she needed 24-hour care, I left my job to take care of her. As her health deteriorated, she began to grunt more than she would talk. I got so I knew her grunt for when she was ready for something to eat and her grunt for when she was ready for more pain meds. As you can imagine, losing my mom was really, really hard. I felt the pain of it, but I also felt relief. Relief that for her it was over and relief for me it was over. Taking care of Mom had become my whole life. And now I got my life back. Now, Sam, that hot guy that I talked about earlier, um, was the youngest of three siblings. His sister lived in Los Angeles. She had a career, kids, grandkids, her whole life. The farthest thing from her mind was, nowhere on her radar, to move back to St. Louis for any reason. His older brother had ditched the family, disappeared from the face of the earth. No contact at all with us. So when Sam's mom, we call her Granny, had a stroke that left her partially paralyzed, Sam and I were ready to step in as caregivers for her and Papa. Granny qualified for some assistance through Division of Family Services, so we filled out this monstrous amount of paperwork. It's crazy. After the stroke, they lived on the first level of their three story house, turning the dining room into a bedroom. We took care of their finances. We managed their, uh, doctor visits, all the paperwork they needed to do. And in all of that, um, the arrangement, the living arrangement didn't work so well. They needed more accessibility, so we had to find them a place to stay. We found them an apartment. No, the apartment hunting was not fun. They were whiny. They were grumblers. Oh, my gosh, it was. But we finally found a place that they were happy with. Granny could roll around in her, her wheelchair, take herself to the bathroom and shower. Uh, Papa could cook in the kitchen safely and then visit some of the other tenants. He'd have some friends. The Monday morning after we found this perfect place and Sam was getting ready for work, I told him I said, "You know, your parents are not going to make a move until you tell them, 'Move.'" He says, "Okay, all right. I will go by their house tonight and after work, and I'll, I'll talk to them and we'll get this underway." And I said, "Okay, good." That conversation never happened. Sam had a fatal heart attack at work. My grieving was put aside so that I could help Papa and Granny deal with losing their baby boy, handling the finances and insurance papers, moving them out of the house into the apartment, making sure there was no drop in the in the services that they received. I remember going to the apartment, um, and there's pictures of Sam everywhere. It was really hard. Their conversation was mostly about him, and at first I kind of jumped into the role of taking care of things, you know, pretty easily. It almost seemed like second nature. But over time I got weary, and one of those days from the walk from the elevator to their apartment, I wondered, how long? It's been six years. In that window of time, Papa and Geri, their daughter, have both passed away. Granny's 94. Here's the good thing. She's still in the apartment. With the help of home health care services, she's able to, to be there. I take care of her finances and my own. Wow, I'm a genius and manage, you know, the doctor visits and all those things for her as well. I've noticed these last few doctor visits that taking the wheelchair in and out of the car is beginning to wear me down. The other day, the other day, she calls me. She's not feeling good and I know to ask questions. So I said, "Where does it hurt?" Not hurting. "Do you have a fever?" No fever. "How's your breathing?" It's good. All right. She's 94. Okay, so 94 year old bodies don't have good days every day, but a few minutes later, her chore person calls me in a panic. Granny's doing this, and she's not doing that. Okay, okay, okay. I'm on my wa. Now this happened on the day that I go to Siegel Elementary School to read to a kindergarten class. It's one of my passions. And so I called to cancel that, along with canceling a couple of other appointments I have for that day. And I go to the apartment, get inside, Granny sitting at the table, sipping her coffee. The chore person is in the kitchen, and I go, huh? She looks at me and she smiles. All right, take a deep breath. Okay. I'm frustrated. Well, maybe even a little mad, but I sit with her a couple of hours. There are still times when I take that walk from the elevator to the apartment door that I think, how long? It was not my plan to be caretaker without Sam. I get to the apartment door. I turn the key, and I I whisper a prayer that she's okay and that she's still kicking. Get inside. I see her smile, sigh of relief. And then I think, What? What is my life gonna be like when I'm 94?
Steven Harowitz: 12:58
One more time for Delores.
Steven Harowitz: 13:02
And that is a wrap. I'd like to thank all of the graduates of Intro to Storytelling for sharing stories on responsibility. Also, a big thank you to the Campfire team, our photographers and videographers. Also a special thanks to KDHX Community Media for being our partners on this journey. We're always so honored to host Campfire live at The Stage at KDHX and for letting us record in KDHX Studios in St. Louis, Missouri. If you want to learn more about Campfire and the work we do, you can visit cmpfr.com. That's c m p f r dot com. And if you liked what you heard, please leave a review on iTunes or wherever you find your podcasts. It really does help out. Until next time.
