Blur of realities.............from K

Yes, I'm back on board, but my thoughts are still with my Dad back in the hospital and my mother having to make impossible decisions. I spent almost 3 weeks with them - in and out of the hospital, up and down at all hours of the night, so it is a bit of a struggle to fully appreciate the penetrating heat of the Florida sun and the gorgeous, clear water bluer than pool water -- just yet.
My Dad developed a dangerous infection in his chest cavity following the surgery, which blurred his view of what was real and imaginary. Interestingly, he always recognized all of his family members - even his newest granddaughter-in-law, and he would ask us appropriate questions like, "how are the girls?" and "where is your next port-of-call?" Most of his other meanderings were not so lucid. We heard endless details about a cruise he was planning for the entire family from New York's Lake Chautauqua (his childhood playground) to the Everglades. Yes, the entire family was going to caravan in pontoon boats down the coast and the CIA was guarding our mission. His details and itinerary were so convincing that sometimes we almost forgot it wasn't real. Likewise, one night in the hospital, while I held his hands to remind him not to pull out his chest or nose tube, he insisted he had to get out of bed to get me something. I told him we could get it later, but that wouldn't satisfy him. Finally I told him to tell me what it was and I would get it for him. He said it was a chart of the Tortugas. He was insistent that I sail there, and it was very important that I go to Jefferson, "a very old place with forts and embattlements." I guessed he was getting confused with our earlier talk about our visit to St. Augustine, and told him so. He insisted that I should sail to Jefferson and told me so several times. Finally, I agreed I would try, knowing full well that there was no Jefferson and sadly added this adventure to his other stories of delirium.
A few days later, I flew to Miami on New Year's Eve and met P at my sister's house for a needed reunion. P was eager to review the charts for our trip through the Keys and I half-heartedly perused the chart as he suggested a tentative itinerary. The Keys are a convoluted morass of funnily-named islands, sounds and harbors. And there, 70 nautical miles west of Key West, near the Dry Tortugas, is a little island, home to Fort Jefferson, a historic point of defense and Civil War prison. My spine tingled. Although I berated myself for not having believed my father, I feel much better knowing that I'll keep my promise to Dad. Fort Jefferson is scheduled for February - maybe we should make it a family excursion.