On Sept. 11, 2025, my father died. I spent a lot of time in the days that followed crying and staring off into space. My state of mind alternated between sadness, disbelief and anger, as I searched for a sign from Dad that he was OK.

Eventually, in retrospect, I found what I was looking for. Six days before Dad died, my mother called to tell me he was in the hospital. She didn’t think he was going to make it. The news sent shivers through my body, partly because of the timing of Mom’s phone call.

Just a few hours earlier, my husband and I had booked a 12-day Caribbean cruise on Norwegian Cruise Line leaving from Manhattan on Sept. 29. The first four stops were Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico, Saint Kitts and Saint Lucia. The final two stops were St. Maarten and St. Thomas, the Caribbean

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