#12, my "Uncle" Ulysses.

Ulysses lived across the courtyard from us when i was very little. He had darkish skin, stubbly facial hair, was very tall and thin and quite handsome, if i recall correctly. i always remember him wearing white. He had a sitar, and tons of records. There was always incense burning on a low table in his apartment, usually a stick stuck in a stone from the beach, one of those that is worn full of holes from decades of swirling around in the ocean. He died of AIDS in '82, i think, or maybe it was '83. At the end he wore one of those white masks you see painters wearing, and once he fainted in middle of the courtyard. My mom was his really good friend, and she took us all over to say goodbye to him "for the last time". He was the first person i knew who died. Sometimes i wish he had never gone away of course. We would have been pen pals, and he would have traveled the world, sending me exotic postcards.