Way too young

Last night as Jason and I were watching 24, a "breaking news" bulletin crawled along the bottom of the TV screen. Right away, I said to him, "Uh-oh, it's Kirby." And it was. Former Minnesota Twin, Kirby Puckett died after having a massive stroke on Sunday. He was only 45 years old. I've never been a huge baseball fan. If a game was on TV, I might pay attention when the announcer was clearly agitated or excited by something, but it's never been high on my list of things to do. But I think that just about every Minnesotan, whether they're a baseball fan or not, was a fan of Kirby Puckett. The way he played the game, they way he treated his fans, especially kids, and his huge smile. He's just one of those people that, when they're gone, you just can't believe it. It's really a shame.

Then, when I got to work this morning, I saw that Dana Reeve died yesterday as well. She was only 44 years old. They had done a good job of making us think that she was doing OK, so I was really surprised. After all she went through with her husband, she deserved a long, healthy life. I feel bad for their kids, whose parents are now both gone. It's just not fair.

Neither one of these events actually moved me to tears--that's hard to do. But both of them have been on my mind all day. Like Kirby said in a speech one time, "None of us is promised tomorrow." That's a good thing to keep in the back of your mind on the days when the "little things" are getting to you.