tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6412826294594900386.post8850076299653064766..comments2023-04-12T08:12:17.855-05:00Comments on yellowarmadillos: In Memoriam: Dr. Wayne C. BellAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12068839756237461498noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6412826294594900386.post-25749527152052995482014-10-17T11:48:10.805-05:002014-10-17T11:48:10.805-05:00That is a really wonderful poem, Rosie. Thank you...That is a really wonderful poem, Rosie. Thank you. <br />It is odd (or perhaps it's not) how much breakfast, diners in general, figure in to my own vivid affections for Wayne. It must be the warmth and comfort he invited in those moments. Time with him to think and talk and hear him laugh. The pleasure he took in ideas and moments great and small was so grand and contagious. The anticipation of where his mind would go next or how he would react to a story or joke. There is that sense from being a kid that evaporates little by little as we get older, at least for me, that anything is possible and everything holds interest. Wayne was always able to give some dimension of that that back to me, at least for a little while, to make the world interesting and exciting again. Oh how I will miss you dear Wayne, and oh how I will always carry you with me. Calebhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03667505440174429135noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6412826294594900386.post-91024602417208169592014-10-17T00:56:18.390-05:002014-10-17T00:56:18.390-05:00(About "Professor" Wayne Bell who passed...(About "Professor" Wayne Bell who passed on October 13th 2014.)<br /><br /><br /> Professor<br /><br />You enjoyed a good movie, Becket? Shane?<br />chess a game you loved so dearly<br />half a cup of coffee with a plastic cup so you get it hot each time <br />a book writer, getting denied tenured, but at the end succeeding<br />an unfinished list, songs of his liking<br />house on fire with his little sister in his lap, on the grass <br />sat there holding her, so she wouldn't run into the flames<br />sweet was he, compassionate, lovable smile<br />when you needed to talk, he would listen<br />sitting, eating breakfast, talking about england and becket<br />we will miss you, but your spirit lives on.<br /> <br /> By Rosie Donnelly*<br /><br />*the last thing I got to do with him was eat breakfast with himAnonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07886015763659377137noreply@blogger.com