Bleeding Perseverance - Episode 24

Autobiography Fridays

Grandpa Borelli had gotten worse over the years. We had went to visit him a few times while in Stockton, and his Alzheimer’s had become so bad that he couldn’t even hold a conversation with anyone. He couldn’t recognize most people, including us, and only kept one picture on the wall. A picture of a little boy who somehow remained in his memory.

Me.

I don’t know the circumstances behind it, but Uncle Mike had next of kin authority over him. Grandpa Borelli had developed gain green in one of his legs, and the decision had to be made on whether or not to cut it off in order to stop the infection from spreading. Although he didn’t have his full mind anymore, he knew what was at stake and would beg them not to cut it off. He said he wouldn’t be a full man anymore and rather die.

Well, I don’t know what drove Uncle Mike to make the decision, but he made it and Grandpa Borelli’s leg was cut off. We visited him one time after that and it was like he had lost all will to live. He passed away soon thereafter.

I never spoke to Uncle Mike on the choice he had to make. All I can say is that if it were me, after weighing the facts I probably would have made the decision to keep the leg attached. Grandpa Borelli was a Navy man, and being a ‘whole man’ was really important to him. He had been a walker all his life, so I could see how devastating that could have been for him. Although he didn’t walk anymore, it was really all he had. It was a mental thing. So even though it probably would have meant his death, I don’t think I could have taken that away from him. It’s like the old scenario of a dying relative who’d rather be home than in a hospital room. Keeping them hospitalized might keep them around a little bit longer, but would they be at peace? No. Besides, he had specifically asked to keep the leg. I couldn’t deny a man such a thing.

Chino came back for the funeral. He was now eighteen years old, so CPS had no control over him anymore. It had been a year or so since I had last saw him, so visiting with him was nice. After a few days he returned to his job in Hawaii. As for the other kids, they were hanging in there. We were all waiting on CPS to allow them back home, and CPS was waiting for Mom to provide a stable home, along with the completion of parental classes.

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Meanwhile, after putting in a request Fred was being transferred to Folsom State Prison. It was closer to get to, but you had to line up at about four or five in the morning if you wanted to visit for the maximum hours allowed. This meant arriving at like midnight to assure a space.

Soon after the transfer Mom and Fred were married there in prison. Occasionally they would have congical visits, at which time I would have the apartment to myself. Too bad I didn’t have a girlfriend yet.

In December of that year