When dreams and heroes die....

Monday was a shocking day for our family. The whole house was awakened from our holiday sleep when my wife turned on the news and saw the leading story on the Today Show - The Croc Hunter, Steve Irwin had died. Her initial reaction was to shout, "Oh No! Nick, Nick! Oh No!" As I struggled to consciousness, my only thought was, "something must have happened to Steve."

Irwin has been more to our family than just one of the crazys on the discovery channel that causes audiences to gasp at his antics; he has been a member of our household. For our eight year old son Nick, Steve is much more than a hero. Like most boys, his room is covered with evidence of his passions. In this case it's posters of snakes, empty turtle shells, books about anything science stacked in every corner, and his two prized possessions - a Sinoloan Milk Snake and a Leopard Gecko. Since he was 4 Nick's dream (and educational plan) has been to travel with me to Australia with the sole purpose of going to the Australia Zoo, meeting Irwin and asking him, "will you teach me how to catch venomous snakes?" Nick had to ask his kindergarten teacher how to spell "Herpetologist" when drawing a self portrait and biographical poster to share with the class. He was mortified when she didn't even know what a herpetologist was, much less how to spell it. Nick longed for the day when he could work at the Australia Zoo and maybe date and marry Bindi, Irwin's 8 year old daughter. Nick wanted to be just like Steve. Not for the same reason most kids liked the animal activist, but because he loves animals, especially reptiles.

As I joined him and Karen in front of the television Monday morning, Nick looked over at me and muttered in monotone, "I always thought I'd get to shake his hand." I cried.

Later that morning my mom sent an email to my blackberry expressing her concern for Nick's feelings. I let him read it. When he handed the phone back to me he reached for a hug. I sat down on the kitchen floor with him cradled in my lap. We both sobbed for a long time. I managed to whisper, "it's hard when dreams and heroes die, isn't it?" He nodded and sobbed a bit louder.

Throughout the week Nick's dreams have held fast. He still wants to travel with me to Australia. He still wants to visit the zoo. He still wants to Intern there and learn how to catch venomous snakes - but now he wants to be taught by Wes (Steve's best mate), Robert Irwin (Steve's Dad), and pall around with Bindi (Steve's daughter). He wants to make sure that Steve's dreams become realities - whatever it takes.

For Nick, and for my family, Steve lives! He lives in my son who proudly dons his official Crocodile Hunter khaki shirt (straight from the Australia Zoo via the magic of Internet online ordering!) grabs a rubber snake or stuffed gator, and becomes Irwin, reenacting one of the programs he has seen on the Discovery Channel or Animal Planet or exploring the "wild outback" behind our suburban home.

When I told Nick a memorial service was to be held in Australia in the next few days he asked if we had time to buy plane tickets. I better start planning and saving for a trip in a few years. I don't think Nick will let me forget about it.