I always appreciate the kind words of readers and when I’m in so much emotional pain as I am now your caring is a pick-me-up.

I had no ability to answer your concerns about my safety during the hurricane because we had no power.

Let’s start at the beginning when the words “catastrophic event” became real to me.

For days we were warned a hurricane was headed for Florida. Of course we followed every advisory. While my community, Rotonda West, “might be in the cone of uncertainty,” all forecasts at first said Hurricane Ian was headed for the Big Bend area, hours from us. Then it was supposed to be headed for Tampa.

That’s still a safe distance away. But they kept changing the forecast until the last minute when our news media screamed “Get out! Evacuate.” It was headed right for us, expected to make land at our shore. Most residents got in the car to try to get away from a target area. What they encountered was long lines at the gas stations and no gas, no hotel rooms until Georgia.

Locally, we were told to “make other arrangements in a safe area” because if we were in trouble, like sitting on a roof top waiting to be rescued, no one could come to help.

I couldn’t find any friends still in town that could take us in.

My husband and I had no choice. We had to stay at my house and wait it out.

I must say I was concerned, but not panicked. The panic came with the announcement to “hunker down” because Hurricane Ian was going to slam into Rotonda West.

Luck ran out for our Gulf community that seldom gets rain and never had a direct hit from a hurricane.

We were told to go to a room away from windows and protect ourselves from falling ceilings and flying objects crashing through.

My daughters phoned to warn me to stay in our little closed-in bathroom because of all the windows in my house.

I put on my biking helmet and hoped for the best.

My friend Chris who lives directly across the street hammered on my door, saying his home was filling with water and he couldn’t stay there. It took two of us to fight against the wind and open the door.

Our little bungalows are one story, low structures. No place to go. No place to hide from the rushing water.

It became clear we all might die from the fierce storm surge. While the 130 mph winds were frightening, the danger of storm surge drowning us was even worse.

I remember telling Jesus I am not afraid to die. I have walked with Him all my life and I believe His words: “If you believe in me you will have everlasting life.”

But being swallowed up by the ongoing storm surge was too frightening to comprehend.

I sat there thinking of my daughters, Maria and Andrea, knowing how devastated they will be if they never see me again.

The high winds broke off the end of my storm shutter and the winds used it as a hammer, striking the window repeatedly like a demon in rage.

Every few seconds, I heard Whack, Whack, with occasional blasts that sounded like a shotgun going off. I later learned it was my circuit breaker going berserk.

Of course there was no electricity but I didn’t need light to know my world as I knew it was being blown apart.

Hours later the sun came up in all its astonishing colors, just as if it were another wonderful day in paradise.

I had survived Ian.

Whenever I have a close encounter with death it leaves me feeling like the Lord has a different plan for me. It makes me renew my vow to make each day of life count ... to live for My Lord and God and to work harder to serve others.

Daylight revealed just how much my house was destroyed. It wasn’t the roof that gave up the fight. It was the soffits around every room. They all blew away, leaving my house open and providing a path for Ian to do his dirty work.

Everything was gone.

I wish you could see a photo of wet insulation hanging from every room, Big chunks of wet insulation kept falling on us and on what little survived the hurricane.

When I looked outside I saw what Chris meant when he said I now lived on an island all my myself. What was once a street is now a lake. Lawns were gone with nothing but water around me.

Chris found his house was inhabitable with several feet of water. Every single piece of furniture was floating in it.

It hurt my heart to see my good friend lugging what was once their nice furniture to the curb. Then, I had to do the same thing.

Every house on our block was greatly damaged with most being a total loss.

This was not just my neighborhood. It was a haven of wonderful people who took care of each other.

It takes courage to get through each day because as the mold sets in a bleak situation gets worse.

Very little in my home survived. But we did.

And for that I thank God.

Contact Pattie Mihalik at newsgirl@comcast.net.