I'm really taking the death of "Crocadile Hunter" Steve Irwin harder than I thought I would.
I mean, it's not like I'm going to cry or anything. But it's definitely something that bothers me. I've been really thinking about my own mortality lately. Not even "lately". I was thinking about it last night. I haven't really been dwelling on the fact that I will eventually die, but how I'll meet my demise. I didn't want to put my family through that pain. I want to be around for them forever.
I don't know. It's a weird thing thinking about our mortality. We're so caught up in our everyday lives that sometimes we don't appreciate that we're here to see another day. As corny as it sounds, it makes sense. I'll take more time to sit around with my family, hold my baby in my arms, put my arm around my son, and take glances at my wife wondering to myself what the hell she's doing with a piece of shit like me.