The Croc Hunter is Dead

I'm in shock. G- told me about it this morning. I just can't quite grasp the concept. Steve Irwin dead? At 44? With two kids to raise and a successful life before him? (G- said he had a nice full life, all 9 of them.) I just can't believe he's dead. Not like I can't believe it happened (although I'm still waiting for someone to come on and say it was all a mistake, he didn't really die, the news just got misinformation). Not like I'm this gigantic fan. It's just a surreal feeling. A "That wasn't supposed to happen" feeling. It's a little like the feeling I get when George Stephanopoulos shows "In Memoriam" on his Sunday show and 20 names roll by, the majority of which are soldiers killed in Iraq and Afghanistan who are really just kids at age 21, 25, 28. Or when you're watching the Oscars or the Emmys, and they're showing all the actors that have died in the past year, and you're like "what, he died?" Or when Peter Jennings died. I cried like a baby all night long and wore black to work the next day. It wasn't supposed to happen. These people are supposed to be invincible. They're supposed to be well-protected. Bad things aren't supposed to happen to them. I know, I know, he died doing what he loved. At least he lived a happy life all the way to the end. Makes me wonder what I need to do to ensure my own happy life to the end.