Cynosure—an entity that attracts attention by its shining brilliance.
Baby, you’re a firework
Make ‘em go, ‘Aah, aah, aah’
As you shoot across the sky-y-y
You’re gonna leave ‘em all in awe, awe, awe
–Katy Perry, “Firework”
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You’re turning heads when you walk through the door,
Everyone else in the room can see it; Everyone else but you.
–One Direction, “That’s What Makes You Beautiful”
*
And everything around her is a silver pool of light
The people who surround her feel the benefit of it
It makes you calm. She holds you captivated in her palm
KT Tunstall, “Suddenly I See”
Look at any picture of Phyllis, there’s that incredible smile. Any picture. She enervated a room immediately. Any room. Never sat back. The shortest measurable unit of time in recorded history is the instant between Phyllis entering a room and Phyllis speaking to everyone in it. I was there.
In that way, we were opposites. In social situations, I am nonassertive and extremely shy. Worked well dating. Nowhere else. I’m called “unassuming”, which is euphemism for colorless wallpaper. Background. And with background comes my unique talent for being overlooked. When stuff is passed around, as long ago in school or present-day on a plane, too often the passer comes to my turn, is distracted by a fly, a remark, a daydream; really anything, and skips me. Repeatedly, in the group I attend, even their Thanksgiving dinner, I’m the only one uncalled upon. At a deli counter, dentist, coffee shop, car parts store, they’ll inevitably serve people who came in after me. In a pull-a-number for service, if I were 57, 56 would get served, then invariably 58.
And married to the most beautiful, effervescent, genuine girl in the world, I was a desultory gnat trying to keep up within the flitting aura of a sparkling firefly.
The most common addenda to our fiends’ or family’s storytelling is “You were?” As in….
Friend or family: So, Alan, you should’ve been with Phyllis and all of us, that July 4th night, when we went out to the Truro Dunes, and…
me: I was there.
Friend or family: oh.
(or worse)
Friend or family: Did we ever tell you about the time Phyllis faked fainting to get in first class?
me: She’s my wife. I was with her.
Friend or family: You were?
And I never minded one bit. The librarians of California Readers and I just finished arranging Phyllis’ book scholarship. Candy, who organized the scholarship and their annual culminating affair, told me, every year, far more people would request to be seated at whatever table Phyllis was seated. Of course, I would’ve guessed that. It was the same at AHS, CHS, PHMS, and moreover, every single family or social group of which she was part.
Phyllis had no ego at all. She never, ever attempted to be the center of attention. But she had a remarkable facility, a gift really, for making other people feel they were the center of attention. That gift, I’ve written as, the unique ability to make people feel they were close, along with her verve, made her a bazillion friends.
She is and always will be the most special firework ever.
