I don't live in PG, but I work there. I go through Port Charlotte and PG on my way to work and home every day, and still drive by piles of rubble and empty lots every day. I try to remember what was on the lots, but can't. The good part is that all the new buildings are being built to look like old, mediterranean buildings, which is really going to make PG a gorgeous town.

Yesterday was rough. Had PTSD flashbacks all day. Couldn't turn on the local channels without hearing Charley this, or Charley that. The papers were totally dedicated to it. One said it was probably a category 5. They said that after Hugo, too. I believe it. I saw what both did. I have a painting in my living room of the Charleston, SC battery during Hugo. It serves to remind me every day that it CAN happen to you, and WILL eventually. And so it did.

I mourn the loss of the historical buildings and homes in PG, even though they weren't even 100 years old. This area wasn't really settled much until the early 1900's, but still, they were beautiful homes and buildings. One office building stands like a giant steel skeleton, completely gutted after the storm took out ALL of its windows and its roof and left everything inside unsalvageable. Not sure if that one will be rebuilt, but I'm hoping they'll make them do a mediterranean facade if they do.

There is one old two story house that is listing just a little to the east. It hasn't been repaired yet, no doubt, they are fighting to save it, and the insurance company wants it torn down. There are quite a few such lawsuits over saving historic residences, so I'm told.

All in all, PG is going to be a much, much prettier town after all is said and done. Instead of some of the non-historic, less pleasing to the eye architecture, there will be a mediterranean historic feel to the whole city.

So here's to the survivors! Even if you weren't devastated by one or more storms, we are all survivors. We had to stand by helplessly and see our neighbors' and friends' lives blown away in an instant. We had to drive by devastated homes, businesses, and trailers with the ominous red numbers on them. We dodged trees, downed power lines, and debris filled streets to get to a place where we could offer to help in any way we could. We had to watch people suffer, seing that blank sort of hopeless stare so many times a day, and not be able to do much but provide some love and understanding.

We cried, we hugged, we railed at God, then we joined ranks and propped each other up and held each other together. We all mourned together for the loss of our arrogance and ignorance. We became different people, more savvy, more connected, and more loving.

So here we all are, alive if not ever again completely well, with more faith in our neighbors and the kindness of strangers than we have ever had, and a true respect for Mother Nature and her awesome power.