Southwest Florida is my home. I had wanted to live here for a very long time, and finally the time was right in my life to make the move. Living on an island is about the most precious gift one can receive. I wrote my 2nd book about such, LIFE FROM UNDER A TREE – How To Live The Island Life, a little ditty speaking of the joy one receives from swaying palms and gentle Gulf Breezes.
As most of you know, much of southwest Florida was destroyed by the horrors of Hurricane Ian. While the Professor and I made out without bodily injury or any major home damage, the little barrier islands just to the south of us did not.
This post is about one of those magical barrier islands, Sanibel. If you have ever had a chance to visit this sweet little island you know how transforming visiting her can be. Known for years for her shell scattered shores, visitors from all over the world flocked to her sands. The photos attached are from the summer of 1968. They are pictures of me and the baby, Sister Golden Hair. I was 16 and SGH had just turned 1, we are walking the shore of Sanibel, a favorite vacation place that our parents enjoyed. Those memories are like gold, etched into my mind. Take a gaze at the natural, unfettered beauty of the shoreline. I am so sorry to report that it is all gone today. Gone.
There is no bridge, no ferry, no electricity, no water, no services, no houses. Most of the trees are gone, too. If you were a homeowner who lived here, your home is now gone, you are now homeless. All the residents are now homeless. The island is leveled beyond recognition, and this holds true for most areas surrounding it. Ian, while on his furious run, slammed into this sweet little island and then hugged the coast, creeping along at a snail’s pace of 8 mph heading north and wrecking more havoc. The towns of Englewood, Port Charlotte, Northport, and Venice and all their barrier islands and small little towns in between received catastrophic damage from winds clocking at 110 -140 mph that raged for 8 hours. It was harrowing. Once Ian got tired of taking on fuel to from our beautiful Gulf waters, he turned east after crossing the town of Venice. My home is 7 miles up the coast from Venice.
As most of you know, I speak of angels all the time. I commune with them, that is true, and I know in my heart when they are called upon to help, they will dispatch faster than a speeding bullet. On D-Day of Ian’s arrival, we lost all communications as one may expect to occur in a storm of this magnitude. I was reliant on Sister Golden Hair in up in Maryland to advise me on what was happening whenever she could get a call to go through. She later told me she was transfixed on the TV Screen watching The Weather Channel’s Jim Cantore riding it out. As the storm reached Venice and was headed right toward me, she said she prayed harder and called on angels like never before – “Turn”, she said screaming at the screen, “turn”, and miraculously Ian heeded her call.
I am sad, to say the least, that Ian took his fury to my neighbors and spared me, but I know everything happens for a reason. I know also I share a very divine connection with Sister Golden Hair. I undoubtedly know she, being a late in life addition to our family, it was meant to be. That she was designed and sent by God to be my sister. She is about a special a gift as one can receive. Even despite our significant age difference, our relationship is both transcendent and sacred. I mean, seriously, if she and the angel girls that she hangs out with can “turn” a Hurricane away from my door, my gosh…anything is possible.
As we begin the process of rebuilding our paradise, folks, please continue your prayers for all us souls of Southwest Florida. We thank you for all of them ♥