I miss playing monsters with you

He was a beautiful man.
He was my mom’s brother.
He visited every year. We kids counted down the days for months.
He sang, Puff the Magic Dragon, and made us believe we could fly.
He brought us matching shirts from Mexico.
He was the only person in the world who could convince six children to wear them.
He was intelligent and creative.
He wrote a book about St. Vincent de Paul.
He played monsters with us.
He carried us on his back every year, until our shoulders surpassed his in size.
He visited us one summer then returned to San Francisco.
We didn’t know it was his last visit.
He died from complications associated with AIDS.
He was a beautiful man.
He was our beloved Uncle Robert.
uncle robUncle Robert is modeling the jacket I painted for him. Being the hip uncle, he wanted to strike a cool pose for his photo op.

AIDS has caused more than 36 million deaths.
Today, 35.3 million people are living with HIV.
AIDS was first recognized in the US in 1981.
Uncle Robert died in 1985.
He was 45 years old.

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