Author Archives: willbagby

I Hate Baseball !!

I hate baseball.  My favorite team is, and always has been, the Orioles, but I cannot tell you one player’s name on the roster.  I take that back….if you let me go back 50 years, I can almost name their … Continue reading

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Serendipity and Reflection

The darkness in the pre-dawn hours along Coalfield Road is simultaneously comforting and foreboding.  The occasional car coming from the opposite direction is on its way to the Y across the street from my townhouse.  The Y must be giving … Continue reading

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Giants

It was their hands I always stared at with fascination.  They were huge, rough hands with large cracked fingers.  Fingers who had worked on so many cars, tractors and logging equipment that they were permanently webbed with the black lines … Continue reading

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Sweet Sorrows

  I, Will, take you, Lynn, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honour you all the days of my … Continue reading

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“Moving”

The inside of the house on Camrose Road seems sterile and soul-less.  It smells of new carpet, silicone caulk and emptiness.  Most of the furniture is gone, the pictures taken down and all signs of occupation have been diminished. We’ve … Continue reading

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Lenny: A Very Good Guy

  “I guess I’ll have to eat ALL my fries now,” I blurted/cried out.  We were sitting in the small emergency veterinarian’s examine room waiting for the nice vet to come back with the syringes that would ease our pup’s … Continue reading

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When Words Fail

This Saturday morning I’ll wake up and do the hardest thing I’ve had to do in my life.  I’ll quietly get up and creep downstairs, turn on the Christmas tree and let the dog out.  I’ll put a coffee pod … Continue reading

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De-Evolution

  “What’s happening to us?  Why are we so mean and hateful to each other?  Why are we so selfish and have so much hate in our heart?” she said.  The “she” in this case was “Linda” the nurse who … Continue reading

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The Shoes of a Fisherman

He would sit there every Sunday – frozen.  Two socks on, one shoe on and the right shoe in his right hand.  Just staring – frozen and looking out in space for five to ten minutes.  Eventually he would snap … Continue reading

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Thoughts in the Still of the Morning

  This story from the surgeon and writer Richard Seltzer in his book, Mortal Lessons: Notes on the Art of Surgery, about a young woman with a tumor in her cheek. Dr. Seltzer writes of his visit to her hospital … Continue reading

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