Men of Snow

Listen.

Oh, one day, you will go away from this;

Oh, one day, you will know we're men of snow.

We melt;

One day

It's sad, but she's right. We're all going to disappear one day, but the first thoughts which went through my head were those of defiance. I am not a man of snow.

I accept that I'll be gone after several decades. I'll leave behind things that I have done and things I have created, while memories of things I've failed to do and things I've destroyed haunt those I've left behind. I embrace this fact. But one thing I don't want to do is to stand idly by while I melt away.

I want to be part of others around me, for them to be able to say that I have made a difference in their lives. It's not that I want to be remembered when I pass, it's that I want to be here when I haven't. I don't need to make a mark in history, or a statue in my likeness. I want to live. (But please, feel free to remember me for as long as you want.)