A Life Worth Living

Life is a beautiful thing. 

It holds so much contradiction yet so many complexities that make it beyond the scope of what many can consider understandable. Yet everyday people try to understand more and more through various means such as through science or through exploring one's own philosophy.

Many would degrade life as being pointless or having no meaning in this infinite universe because while we exist on one small planet in a small solar system in one galaxy of thousands, if not millions, of other galaxies, we are here. 

Every time our planet makes its way around, our sun is a victory for life as we are still here.

Another aspect of beauty is finding various other perspectives, both for good and for ill, and I have seen many such things. I was not born with a silver or Golden Spoon in my mouth. Hell, I did not even know my own name. 

When I was found on the steps of that orphanage in dirty blankets, not even in a basket, there was no name first nor last, not even a middle one.

The first years of my life remain a blur to me, especially now as I lay in my bed. Yet, from what I remember, it wasn't even until my third birthday that I even gained a name as I was simply referred to as "him" or "you'. 

I did not even know what I was missing, and the orphanage was very poor. As this was the later years of the 1920s and the early years of the 1930s, I was able to get a fresh piece of bread.

The closest to a candle I had was a nearly broken lighter one of the other orphanage kids gave me to blow out, and one of the other boys gave me the name Nezan or Nathan. People called me both. Make no mistake, there was no last name, just simply Nathan.

I cried for the first time that day as I ate the bread, and the others clapped in not celebration but happiness that another lived for a bit longer. 

The orphanage had no name as it was established in the remnants of an old housing complex. While this did garner some advantages, such as the fact that there was no property tax, it also had many downsides, as there was no way to gain financial aid.

Every day I witnessed some kids go to sleep and never wake up again with their forms so skinny that you would not be able to make out a difference between them and corpses. Other than on very rare days such as Christmas and our various birthdays, life was as gray and dull as you can imagine.

Sometimes, I would climb to the roof of the complex, which wasn't very high as it was only a two-story building, and even the two-story height was being held together by what looked like duct tape and twigs. Climbing to the roof wasn't even that difficult, as there was a ladder on the side of the building.

I would wake up some days just to watch the sunrise, maybe as a reminder that I live to see another day or just to see that this life has more colors than just dull gray. 

In terms of kids being adopted, those numbers remained in the single digits each year, and to some, being adopted was essentially a death sentence as most families simply wanted the children to sell or do other things.

It was simply the worst of times, and I fully admit that I was lucky to have just enough food and to be just quiet enough that no one ever noticed me. 

I never even went to school nor had a normal education by what is considered normal in these modern times. And then I saw on the news at a local TV store about the war overseas and an attack on some islands.

"It doesn't matter," I thought to myself it would change nothing. The same mental philosophy may have played a part in why I wasn't a very emotional child well it could be described as selfish for never considering how other things affect others. Or maybe I simply wasn't educated enough to be able to put myself in the shoes of another.

Yet as the 1930s crawled on, new factories started showing up and preparing various arms as well as other supplies for our "allies" across the pond in Europe. I do admit to laughing as I saw some footage of a man with a small mustache giving an impassioned speech in a language I would not understand until many years later.

Life just seemed to pass me by, and every day, I would go out on the streets looking for any opportunity for food or for water. By the early 1940s, I was in my teenage years, and I began to want more. 

If not for myself but for those who gave me shelter, I went to a local gangster and was able to leverage our shared past in the orphanage. As well as a majority of my gathered funds to make an identity for myself.

Nathan Nezan Loken is a true name and right after that I went to the small town's hall and went over to the recruiters. Luckily, I had managed to fill out my clothes a decent amount so that I did not look emaciated. 

Even then, the tests made it feel like I was dying. I still laugh, remembering the look on the recruiter's face as I could barely do a decent amount of pushups.

But I got in, and soon enough, I was Private Loken, another name in a way, and I was sent out to Europe. Now it was 1942, and I was officially sixteen years old, as I flew across the pond in a plane most would consider a deathtrap, I remained quiet. Yet as I sat in that dark, one of the men reached over and snapped his fingers in my face.

As I slightly jumped from the act, I looked to my left and saw a man laughing as he looked at me with a smile. Before I could say anything, he stated firstly, "Well, now you seem a little lost, my friend. Feel like sharing why you look so focused?" I wanted to answer, but I could not answer him as if that question shocked me more than I could fathom.

"Well, if you're not going to say anything, I might as well introduce myself. The name is Jim Cassidy, lover of guns and a good old-fashioned handshake." The man then reached out his hand and looked at me. I slowly took it, and the man nearly ripped off my left arm. 

Seemingly, the fact that he was shaking my entire body along with my arm caused the man to laugh a bit boisterously, but many of the other soldiers on the plane were talking to one another, so it didn't really matter.

After he let go, he looked at me and asked, "So you a mute?" I shook my head and said, "No, I just don't know how to respond." The response caused the man to smile as he said, "Then say anything as introductions don't need a hello nor a goodbye." The man practically radiated a manic energy.

I nodded as he stared at the ceiling and said "So you have any experience with a gun?" I again shook my head in denial as he scoffed and said, "Well then, my friend, it looks like I'm going to have to teach you then, can't have you shooting yourself in the dick while we are in the field." 

He then took a cigarette, and before he lit it, I placed a hand on the lighter and said, "You shouldn't smoke. I heard you can develop black lungs."

This comment sent a chuckle down his throat as he lit it anyway and said, "Well then, I will die a free man, my friend, but it is nice that you care so much." I then questioned, "Why are you calling me my friend? We just met a couple of seconds ago."

As if I was speaking in moon runes, he looked at me and said, "Well, to me, any fellow soldier is a fellow friend, and besides, I'd rather have a friend watching my back than a stranger." 

So I would assume it's a sort of mental coping mechanism for the fighting then. But as if reading my mind, he looked at me and said, "Most people would think I'm doing it just so I could die in the company of friends, but it's more than that. It's a family tradition after all. Every Cassidy has died with a friend."

That thought sent me into a bit of a daze as, during my teenage years, I could never really understand the concept of trust. In fact, I probably didn't even know the word existed. It's hard to remember such things these days, but I will always remember that man. We would spend the hours on that flight talking well it was mostly him talking and I myself was listening.

As we touched down in some air base in Britain, we disembarked with the light gleaming through the space between the docking bay doors and the ground, and as we stood in formation and went to the barracks, he said one last thing, "See you soon friend." That was an understatement.

Battle after battle we kept meeting from Crete to the forests of Europe and both of us shared a laugh as the battle we would fight in was called the Bulge of all things. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, I heard that the man with the silly mustache went and killed himself. 

I assume it was because of the Russians bearing down on him or the fact that Jim promised to use his mustache as an ashtray.

I still remember the first life I took and it was not even in an official battle rather, it was a scouting mission in German territory and at once, everything went to shit as some Germans gunned down my fellow troops in the treeline and as Jim and I ducked for cover and as Jim looked at me he said quietly "Play dead." He then fell into a pool of blood, and I stood against the tree, sitting down with my eyes closed.

Soon enough, the bullets stopped firing, and I heard footsteps approaching with branches snapping with every step the Germans took toward us as the four men approached, they began to loot the bodies for info or ammo, and at that moment, Jim took a grenade and pulled the pin and as quickly as he fell he stood up and grabbed me from the tree and we jumped behind some more cover, and the grenade went off.

The explosion wasn't too large, but the ringing in my ears was one of the worst noises I had ever heard. As we lay together, Jim pulled me up, and as we took a breathe, one of the Germans that were still alive took a couple of shots at us but due to the blood loss he missed, and I immediately shot him in the chest and he fell on the ground dead.

The ringing remained and Jim's voice felt so far away and I did not even hear him until we returned to camp. Sometimes, even today, I hear the ringing over and over again. Yet after each battle, the war felt never-ending yet quick at the same time, and as we went from nation to nation, Jim kept his camera with him at all times and took a lot of pictures.

Some of them were less than attractive as one included me with my gear stolen by the locals and all I had left were some star-spangled undies. Yet each one of those pictures was a treasured memory, although I have to admit some of my favorites were the ones that were taken in the Mediterranean. I will never forget those beaches until the day I die.

Other than the beaches in France because I would very much willingly forget as I was one of the unlucky schmucks that had to be on the boats when all those German machine guns bore down on us and my only calming factor was that Jim was going to go in as a paratrooper once the beaches have been cleared.

Soon enough the treaty was signed and the war was over. Jim had offered to spnsor me on an investment job and soon we returned to his home in South Carolina both decorated men and his family were interesting to say the least. Luckily both of his parents were still alive if not a bit up there in years and while the father seemed like a hard ass the mother was definitely the secret keeper . You wouldn't be able to tell as the woman was a veritable saint, and yet that saint held some very damaging barbs.

To be honest, trying to get a job without a degree in both college or High School took some time as well as the remains of the funds I had before going into the military. But with a little luck as well as noticing the changing of the times I invested in some companies that would from what I thought be successful. Although I do remember putting some stocks into a computer company that named itself after a fruit.

But even with the decent amount of money I made, the best part was simply living at the house with the Cassidy family. Even though sometimes I felt like I was still in the military as his dad was also a military man, he kept getting us up at military time. 

And when Jim said he loved guns, it definitely spread to his family, and sometimes I felt like they were prepping for an apocalypse.

It definitely gave us something to do, as there is nothing more satisfying than hunting your own Thanksgiving dinner. But time just flew by yet again and I felt stuck and with the large amount of money I had made at this point I'd wanted to explore like when we toured Europe. 

When I sat them all down and told them my plan, Mr. Cassidy put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Son, follow your dreams. Don't let life bring you down. You have the means and the money so feel free all three of us know how responsible you are." 

After saying that, Mrs. Cassidy said, "Yes, Nate, I agree, as I felt like you were going to explode. But before you go, we have a deal for ya."

This piqued my interest, and as she took out a form and handed it to me, the words adoption form stood out. As I stared at it, I felt my face become wet, and the family hugged me, and for the first time, I felt at peace and as such, my name went from Nathan Nezan Loken to Nathan Nezan Cassidy or Loken.

So after a couple of days, I left and explored the world as I went from coast to coast and met a variety of people while also promising myself never to go back to Brazil as we do not talk about what happened in Brazil. 

I made sure to keep my business running as I was fully able to take calls and send in paperwork, but to be honest, the business could mostly be run without me.

Although Jim did tell me to send him a picture of when I got myself my first phone, I will never admit to him that it took me a couple of hours to get it working. And every day I would call him and tell him everything I'd seen as well as all the pictures I'd taken with the camera he gave me. But I did tell him how annoying it was to develop a film.

He would laugh and say it's a part of the process, but I would disagree. I held onto that camera for years, and soon enough, I was an old man, and the turn of the century arrived. By this time, Jim had had a kid with a woman who, I would say, definitely was not a fan of me as she viewed my love of travel as being afraid of commitment.

Sometimes I think back on that end and ponder whether she was right or not or maybe the fact I had just not found the right person although it does bring a couple of chuckles to myself as I basically filled in the role of the eccentric uncle. 

But Jim was able to keep her from doing anything we would all regret and as those kids grew up and my body began to slow I took my final trip where it all started back to that town in New York.

The orphanage was gone and replaced with some urban development and some of the kids that I remembered while they were dead and gone or in nursing homes. Yet I still want to talk to him and give them a decent amount of money to give their own kids or to put something in the will for them.

It was a rough couple of years. Soon enough, all those cigarettes Jim would smoke finally caught up to him, and he developed lung cancer. He refused to get treatment for it as, in his words, he would not want to walk around with a shining head. He was stubborn until the end, and he was right. He died with a friend.

Now, I find myself writing this final message. And I would say again, life is truly beautiful as you just need to find that person to show you why.

This final message is a bit of an addendum to my will as all of my assets will be given to Jim's kids and the kids that they had and I would think giving them a couple million dollars is a good farewell gift.

*Cough* *Cough* "Really need to get something to drink." I said to myself as I pulled out some water, which was a rather funny talking point as even to this day, I refuse to drink alcohol. And as time passed, I began to fill the role of what people refer to as the designated driver. 

Soon enough, the exhaustion gets to me, which feels kind of pathetic as I'm going to bed around 8:00, when I used to stay up till all hours of the night shooting guns off of Jim's porch.

But this is enough all I have seen and all I have gained is enough as the place I lived was filled with memorabilia and knick-knacks. All the stuff will be going to the kids, and I am okay with that even though I feel like they'll sell some of it to pay for those gacha games of theirs.

"What even is a waifu?" I think to myself as I feel my eyes close as I face the setting sun, seeing that same beauty I saw all those years ago.