Christmas without daddy

Steve Irwin often spoke with his hands. Every “Crikey” or “Get a look at this little beauty” that tumbled from his mouth was punctuated with a flourish. It was with these hands — “as big as an orangutan’s,” says his widow, Terri — that Steve grappled with the crocs that made him an international star. And it was with these hands that he held the three most important people in his life, Terri and his children Bindi, eight, and Bob, three.

Today, almost three months after his death, Steve Irwin’s hands are still reaching out to those he loved most in the world — his family. “It sounds bizarre, but his hands are probably the thing I liked most about him,” says Terri, 42. “They were huge. And the children always knew they were safe and loved when he held them.”

“Outside our house, there is a little concrete patch that Steve put there when Bindi was eight months old. He pressed Bindi’s handprints and footprints into the concrete, then his dog, Sui’s, paw prints and then my hands and his.”

“Now, when I come home, I often put my hands in his, which is nice because it helps me feel close to him. He left his hands here for me. Robert sometimes puts his hands in his father’s hands, too. He looks up at me and he says, ‘My hands are going to be just as big as daddy’s’. I put my hands in there and they just about disappear because his fingers are so long, but I can feel Steve beside me. I’m really thankful that he left me his hands.”

Read the whole story, only in the December 2006 issue of The Australian Women’s Weekly.