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The Mental Case Feb 14 2021
The Thaw
The Mental Case

By The Mental Case

 

I used to be the most glorious of snowmen. From the outside I was well constructed and solid, friend to the children and with a sense of fun.

Whitstable Nick Hayes The Thaw

Perhaps my carrot nose was inserted at a jaunty angle. Maybe the scarf that was wound around my neck was from an unusual team. It seemed like those button eyes seemed to shine a little. When people went past this snowman they would smile. That was me. When people went past me, they would smile.

 

I took on the charm and magic of a man of snow with none of the frostiness or cool detachment. I was an interesting addition to any social event. Who wouldn’t want a snowman at the dinner party or restaurant? Certainly more interesting than that accountant or estate agent.

 

So from the outside, I was a delightful novelty. On the inside was where the problems maybe started. There wasn’t much that this snowman could really do. I could amuse small children, I could tell a few diverting anecdotes, I could even go to work and earn a decent salary. But there was a worry that I was lacking that something more substantial that made me long lasting. Whoever heard of a snowman that lasted through spring?

 

I lasted well enough through marriage and through bringing up the small children and through house moves and extensions but then the cracks started to appear in the surface. Where there was once a perfect white surface there was now a rippled effect as pressures took their toll. You could no longer depend on this snowman. I was starting to lose my polished glaze. One of my arms fell to the ground. My scarf started to unwind. I was unwinding. The whole situation was unwinding as the thaw was taking effect.

 

That is where we are now. It is the time of the Great Thaw. I am wondering what remains when the temperature rises for this snowman? As things have warmed so this snowman has been unable to resist the slide to disintegration. Where once my icy feet were planted firmly on the drive, I am now sliding with the rock salt. Where once my smile of sticks drew smiles of their own, I now look wary and uncomfortable. My eyes have long since gone and I have no idea what is to be seen ahead.

 

Just maybe this is when there is time for hope. With every thaw will come the spring and a time of growth and rebirth. The melted snow will bring moisture and nourishment and new buds and colour. Perhaps it is time to transform from a snowman into something new and something positive. I have found the winter a time of gnawing isolation. The sun is shining through my window and there is little left of the snowman. The thaw cannot be resisted – what choice do I have? When it comes it might just bring again joy and children and laughter.

 

 

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