I scrub a bit of mold from my kitchen sink drain this morning, thinking of my family in Fort Myers, Florida, my hometown. All the people and dogs are okay, thankfully.
My niece lives in my parents’ old house on a canal. The water world we enjoyed growing up: the canal and the nearby Caloosahatchee River, all turned deadly with the force of Hurricane Ian. The storm surge flooded the house with 2 feet of water.
While I tackle my mold with a tiny sponge, my 70-year-old sister and husband are dragging their daughter’s furniture and most of her belongings to the curb. The neighborhood streets are lined with tons of wet, moldy, used-to-be comfy things.