Surviving Hurricane Ian: Lessons Learned from Heartbreak and Devastation

Hurricane Helene has recently pummeled down on Florida, Georgia, and the Carolinas, devastating so many. My heart goes out to the communities and families broken apart right now. This has brought back a lot of feelings from 2022 when Hurricane Ian destroyed my favorite place in the world. And three weeks before Ian made landfall, my father was diagnosed with colon cancer, creating the perfect storm. No pun intended! I have known heartbreak in my life, but this was unfathomable. This was one of the hardest things my family and I have ever had to go through. It was the first time in my life I shifted my perspective to worrying about my parents versus them worrying about me. It was a chapter full of painful grief, but like all perfect storms, they force you to withstand a lot. When I look back now...I am grateful that we had to dig deeper to move through. But, let me go back and start at the beginning.

My dad was diagnosed with colon cancer at the beginning of September in 2022, which felt unbelievable. How could a marathon runner, active, healthy guy have to deal with this? Was he going to die? How would this change him and us as a family? Nothing like this had ever happened to our family before—we were all healthy. My parents jumped into problem solving mode and planned for his surgery to remove part of his cancerous colon. They scheduled it quickly and preparations began...To say we were scared was an understatement. My father is the glue of our family, he is the most caring, strong, smart, man you’ll ever met. And if you have the chance to spend a few minutes with him—well you know he is one of the funniest people, too.

Flash forward to the week of his surgery and this so-called Hurricane Ian began receiving more traction in the news. It was picking up a lot of speed and heading for Tampa. As my dad was in his surgery, we found out Ian had changed paths and was heading right for Southwest Florida- to our home. And like I said, he is our backbone…so how we were going to handle this news without him? Now if you know the Millers, you know Sanibel Island is our favorite place on earth. We grew up going there for 15 years, it is our sanctuary. My parents bought a condo in 2011, later to sell and buy a house in 2018. Renovations were just finished in August 2022.

Sanibel is childlike, spun from simple adventures and daydreams. The causeway onto Sanibel feels like you’re entering a portal into another world. It wouldn’t surprise you if the birds spoke, or if the trees walked. 400-year-old men ride their bicycles down Periwinkle Way, smiling. Every silver-haired woman there feels like some sort of fairy godmother. Your feet touch down on the shells and sand, and you realize you’ve been given a golden ticket. You feel the need for an adventure vest, a secret decoder ring, or a cocktail! The ocean is always the perfect blue with warm temperatures and dolphins popping their heads out. It's a place so magical, it feels like anything could happen. Every day the best day ever is in store for you.

Sanibel Is the constant, consistent piece of my childhood. When it felt like my world was lonely or spinning out at home, I knew we'd soon return to our happy place. I hit so many of my life’s milestones with memories from that island. High school, prom dates, graduations, college, heartbreak and tears, moving to Boston, leaving home, and so many more. Sanibel was always there for me, like an old friend welcoming me back into their arms. This island is our second home in so many more ways than just a vacation house. So, when we heard a Category 5 hurricane was heading for our magical place, we were heartbroken. But we held out hope for a miracle.

Meanwhile, my dad was in surgery, and my mom was struggling with this news. Dad did great in surgery, but there was so much more to go through. I will never forget the voicemail my mom left me saying “Dad is doing great…but pray for our little Sanibel and Captiva. I’m not sure they’ll make it through this storm.” The unknown, the uncontrollable, and not knowing what we were in for was eating us alive. How about the lack of control! Fate held our dad and the island’s destiny in its opaque hands. It was especially challenging with our family spread out around the country--we couldn't physically lean on each other.

Hurricane Ian hit our beloved Sanibel Island on September 28th, 2022, at 3:58PM. Winds up to 130 MPH with a 12-foot storm surge. The island was destroyed. The causeway had collapsed, poles snapped in half, yachts were washed up in yards, and condo complexes looking like someone just blown through them. We had 8 feet of water in our house, and our roof had collapsed. The make matters worse, no one could get on the island to officially assess any damage due to the bridge. All we had was a Google Earth photo post storm—and it was hard to tell anything. It was a waiting game. It was unbearable to wait for any news, to know if your house was standing, to know what was going to happen.

My dad had done amazing in surgery and was recovering well. And I hated that we couldn’t have our moment to celebrate his health because of this tragedy. We couldn’t really reflect on how lucky we were because we were so heartbroken from the natural disaster. My dad was discharged after a few days, and we just waited until we heard news about Sanibel. The next few months were some of the hardest we’ve lived through. I prayed a lot more than usual during this time. I begged God for a miracle, for anything. I relied a lot on faith during this time and knew He had already been so good to us. Florida Governor, Ron DeSantis, worked hard to build the causeway back in a month, allowing us to get back on island at the end of October.

It took months of cleanup. My parents, brother, and sister-in-law went down in October of 2022. I stayed back—which I knew was the right decision for my heart and me. The refrigerators and propane tanks in yards, furniture strewed everywhere, the buildings blown out. The sights were horrific. My parents automatically knew they had years of challenges redoing the house again. Should they keep it? Should they sell it? Every time they went down to check on progress, a new issue arose and set them back two steps...Our happy place had suddenly become a stressful, dark, and empty place. My parents had to start from the beginning on our house—but looking back on what Dad went through, I'd take clean up over doing it without him any day.

Maybe that’s why these two difficult events coincided at the same time. Maybe it gave us more perspective than we could’ve ever found. Maybe it made us appreciate our family time, my dad, and the love for each other rather than materialistic things. My mom said to my dad when he was really upset one day questioning ‘why?’ about the hurricane, “I’d rather have us there doing clean up with you healthy, rather than you in a hospital bed with the island untouched.” Sorry- very dark, but you get the point. This stayed with me during so many of those challenging months.

The cleanup has lasted for almost two years. Our island still looks like a construction zone and restaurants, stores, etc. are trying to come back. We lost so much, but we also gained so much. We gained new ways of life and doing things. New friends along the way (shoutout neighbors who have wine and crab dip for us!). We are so lucky to have my dad in good health and to all the people who pitched in their time and resources to make Sanibel okay again. It’s still just as magical, with a few band aids and construction vehicles. I’ve been back a bunch of times since and let me tell you... We are #SANIBELSTRONG!

I appreciate Sanibel and life more; it’s taught me to live in the moment. I’ve always been someone who isn’t present. I either complain (kiss) or I’m thinking about the future. Now, it’s different. When I’m on our boat gliding through the Gulf of Mexico, I squeal like I’m 6 years old again. I relish in that feeling of a shower after a day on the beach or jumping into our pool. I treasure our place, our people, and I enjoy moments both on the island and off. Things I never thought I’d do or see again; I know how lucky I am to have them. And yeah, I always order the hurricane cocktail!

PS: Something that you don’t realize until you’ve been struck with tragedy is people forget. Sure, its prayers, love, and thoughts for the first month or so but people go back to their regular lives. They don’t remember the grief or what you’ve lost, and the world keeps moving forward. That part was so painful. That we were still in it, dealing with it daily. But the world kept trudging forward, onto something new. That being said, my heart goes out to the victims of Hurricane Helene. I know what they’re dealing with, and I feel for them so much. Below are links to donate to their relief fund—anything helps. I know how appreciated people’s care was for us during a time it felt the world was spinning off its axis.

Donate to Hurricane Helene Relief | American Red Cross

Hurricane Helene Relief Fund Buncombe County

You can’t try to reason with a hurricane. Or life for that matter.

Love,

Charty