Key West Revisited

Key West Revisited     by Diane Hanley 5/18/2022

Key West, originally home to Calusa Indians — long gone, was discovered by Ponce de Leon in 1513.  He named it Cayo Hueso (Island of Bones) as scattered on its white sand shores, like a giant grave, were the bleached bones of those Indians, as well as the chalky mounds of the seashells they had emptied.  Even the shape of the island itself, resembles a bone.  My husband was dead, his bones in a grave and I felt alone on this bone island.

I was returning to this place to reminisce.  Fifteen years before I had honeymooned on this island, also known, as Key Weird.  It wasn’t so weird to us then, as entertaining.  We scootered to restaurants  and to the beach, dotted with shady trees, where we put down our towels and swam in the warm waters.  We discovered an Ice cream shop right out of the fifties.  We did the usual people watching, Mallory Square sunset, and some of the museums (Hemingway, Shipwreck, Truman Little White House — there are about 20 more).  We went out on a glass-bottomed boat “oohing and aahing” at the flora and fish.  We stayed at a Bed and Breakfast, named “Author’s Cottages” where I was now, in the same cottage, The Hemingway.  

I was sitting on that porch letting the cool breezes that criss-cross the island from the Gulf and the Atlantic, wash over me, remembering how my husband and I had sat here on white wicker chairs surrounded on two sides by eggshell painted lattice, as he played “Sounds of Silence” by Simon and Garfunkel.  That’s the one song I remember him playing, though there were more.  It seemed appropriate right now, that song: “ Hello darkness, my old friend, I’ve come to talk to you again.”  I was not here for pleasure.  I was not here to be entertained.  I was here to be sad.  I was in a very dark place.  

I made myself walk the 20 minutes to Ricky’s Blue Heaven where we had eaten both a lunch one day and a dinner another.  It was every bit as I had remembered it—its front lit up with various colored lights, its tree-covered al fresco dining with wooden tables resting right on the dirt, but no chickens wandering the area this time, only a sleepy dog near the stage.  I barely tasted my food, the sadness washing over me here, as it had, along with the breezes, on the cottage porch.  I lingered to hear the music, but it didn’t lift my mood.  So I headed back to the cottage, ready to put on my blue and white t-shirt with its Ricky’s Blue Heaven logo, that my husband had given me all those years ago.  I would just read my book. 

It had been a long day, up early to make it to the Key West Express, bouncing across the Gulf, listening to all the happy chatter of tourists heading to Key Weird to party!  And it was equally exhausting walking and wishing and wanting my husband to still be alive and be with me.  Being broken-hearted and melancholy was fatiguing and draining.  I fell into a deep sleep.  

Then I assumed the wind had picked up, as the palm fronds that looked so green and lovely earlier began scratching against my window, rousing me.  I felt an icy chill run through me, as I raised my head.  A night light in the bathroom was casting shadows not light into the room.  But a shadow, near the chair, moved.  I sat up.  The shadow rose from the chair.  I wanted to scream, but it stuck in my throat.  I was frozen.  I was terrified.  The now standing shadow spoke to me, “Don’t be afraid.”  I lay back and like a toddler, who thinks if it can’t see you, you can’t see it, I pulled the covers  up over my head.  This was a nightmare.  It had to be.  Not real.  I would will myself to wake up and it would be over.  But no, the voice penetrated the covers.  I dropped them, no protection at all.  There at the foot of my bed stood a man.

A deep rich engaging voice spoke, “I felt your deep sorrow and sadness and it woke me up.  I have come to speak to you.  Don’t be afraid.” 

“Well, I AM afraid.  Who are you and what are you doing in my room?”

“I have been awoken to help you, allow me to draw you out.  Let my voice lead you to another place, not the dark one where you are now.  I have come to silence your sadness and take away your fears.  I am what they call “a good pirate ghost,” one who will not rob you of anything, but your melancholy.  Come from your bed and into the light.”

I have no idea why I listened to him, but I did.  As soon as my feet hit the floor, we were no longer in a dark cottage room, but in a paradise of trees, plants, birds, animals and sunshine.  The man who now did look like a pirate of sorts, had a kind handsome dark-bearded face and was wearing a white fancy puffy-sleeved poet shirt along with black pants and boots.  He spoke again,  “You are living in the past, am I right?”

“Yes,” I muttered, “I can’t help myself at times.  I thought if I came to Key West, I could shake it and relive happier times, but I am all the worse for the memories.  I don’t know how to shake my feelings or “get over them” as people tell me to do!”

He spoke again with that silky voice of his, while gazing at me with his piercing blue eyes, “Since the beginning of time, people have sought peace — freedom from conflict, evil and depression, but peace, like any treasure, can be fleeting.  Is it “peace” that you seek?”

“Yes, I seek peace.  Just being in this beautiful place is peaceful. Where are we?”

“Key West, a long time ago.  Yes, it is peaceful here.  And you can return to the peace you feel now, anytime, in your mind.  You can close your eyes, envision how your feeling right now, say peaceful words to yourself, pray, breathe in and breathe out and you can feel this same peace again.”

“I will try to do what you say.”

“No trying, you CAN do it!  And another most important thing is to speak words of thankfulness.  Peace does come from a heart of thankfulness.  I will say it again, peace comes from a heart of thankfulness.  You need to focus on the blessings of life, not the gloomy or depressing.  Every moment of every day we have the choice to be sad or happy.  Finding peace is a choice.  If you choose to love others, to be busy with useful tasks and just live the Golden Rule, you will find the sadness leave you.”  

“I am hearing that I need to quit thinking selfishly only about myself.  I need to look outward and think about how I can make other people happy.  Right?”

“Yes, but you must also not think it is ALL up to you.  You can ask others for help, even take medication.  You are not an island like the one we stand on.  You need support and a safe place.  As my captain would tell us, ‘You need to anchor yourself in a well-protected harbor.’  He meant that in more ways than the obvious.  Surround yourself with good people and be honest with them. Life is not done with you yet!”

At that exact moment, I found myself back at the cottage with the sun streaming through the windows causing those lovely green palm fronds to shine brightly.  I thought of one of the lines from a Jimmy Buffet song, “Changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes.”  I realized my pirate friend  had truly cared about the anguish of my mind.  And he had given me a true treasure, a new attitude.  I had been wrestling with darkness. I needed to let go of the dry bones of the past.  There were new memories to be made.  

This supernatural experience — dream, vision, ghostly reality — taught me to look forward, not backward, and to look beyond my selfish ego.  The kind pirate empowered me to be in the light and let the darkness be gone.  I thought of the next lines in the” Sounds of Silence” song, “Because a vision softly creeping, left its seeds while I was sleeping, and the vision that was planted in my brain, still remains…”  I could go home now.