A Tribute to My Uncle

Hi, Could you please corect the following. Thank you.

Time had eclipsed all my childhood memories, both sweet and sour, but not that of my Mama, my maternal uncle, who still remains alive in my mind. Mama was tall, but gracefully slim, and a little hunch backed. He would always drape himself with pure white dhotis and wear full sleeves shirts. He had jet black wavy hair, but relished keeping them unkempt. A thick bi-focal pince-nez sitting on the bridge of his nose had always hidden his bright- and enterprising eyes. Not to get beaten by the pince-nez, a black umbrella got piggy backed on his shoulder all through seasons. Thus, the umbrella became his sixth finger, and without it Mama would look empty and vacant.