Thread by @humansofny

(1/7) “Sometimes I’ll visit mediums. And almost always, the first thing they say is: ‘There’s a man here with long, gray hair.’ And I’ll smile. Because his hair was the first thing I noticed about him..."

(2/7) “That night my parents drove up from Baton Rouge to bring me home, but Mickey talked them out of it. He knew that my parents were one of the reasons for my depression..."

(3/7) “Michael was the love of Mickey’s life. And it could sometimes feel like he was still living in that little apartment with us, even though he’d been gone for two years..."

(4/7) “Mickey once had dreams of being a fine artist. He’d moved to New York during his early thirties. He’d rented a hippie artist studio in The Village, and he found a bit of success..."

(5/7) “Selling that painting was the spark that Mickey needed. It was nice to make a little bit of money. But more than that—it was proof that people valued his work. From that moment on he painted nothing but palm trees..."

(6/7) “Mickey had always been a bit of a miracle. He’d lived with HIV for so long that the doctors were studying him. He used to come back smiling from every appointment, and tell me there was nothing to report..."

(7/7) “Mickey’s memorial was well attended. There had been an article about his death in the newspaper, and the art critic had written: ‘The palms aren’t swaying quite as much as they used to.’ I walked through the crowd at his service, greeting everyone..."