Always something there to remind me.

Phyllis loved Steve Irwin.

Of course she absolutely loved anything to do with animals.  I’ve written about 6meows, Marley, Pooh, Ducklings, Dewey, Cleveland Amory, Peter Gethers, Joy Adamson, James Herriot, Clinton’s Buddy, any dog in our neighborhood, and of course the litany of those feline jackasses we slept with.

Phyl ran to watch Steve Irwin, Crocodile Hunter, whenever he was on.  When he died, she was distraught.  Three weeks ago, I took Alma, whom I had in grade 5 in 1973, “(and with bff Carrie my favorite students ever,) now a cancer survivor, who’d visited Phyl in Cedars, and whom we both loved, to Dancing with the Stars.  I’d barely heard of these “stars”.  i’d seen one in the market in Agoura, and had a big argument with another in Studio City.  Otherwise I knew only of Bindi Irwin, Steve Irwin’s daughter.  She was easily the best dancer there.  I so wished Phyl could’ve been there.

Last week, on one of the gym’s treadmill, I was watching Monday night football on the far tv.  They play rock music, but there are also two tv’s, sound off.  Dancing with the Stars was on the near tv, and it was Bindi’s turn.  They musr’ve been doing a pre-dance tribute to Steve Irwin.  They showed 8 or 9 year-old, little Bindi giving the eulogy, though the sound was off.   I flashed back to myself bemused, as I watched Phyl bawling, as she watched little Bindi eulogizing “my daddy” back then.  On the treadmill, in front of everyone, I absolutely went to pieces, bawling and shaking uncontrollably.