Several meteorologists claimed that Hurricane Ian wasn’t going to be catastrophic. That was clearly incorrect.
The 2022 Category 5 hurricane’s devastating path headed straight toward my grandparents’ home in Fort Myers, Florida. They were in the eye of the hurricane.
My grandma, Brenda Brown, also known as “Granny” in our family, is 79 years old. My grandparents would always leave on a whim at the slightest hint of even a tropical storm. This time, they didn’t. Before anyone realized how powerful Hurricane Ian was, it was too late.
As the storm surge got worse, the water was steadily creeping up the stairs. Granny was at the top of the stairs, waiting. When I asked her what her thoughts were, she was eerily calm.
“I really thought that was it,” Granny said. “I accepted my fate.”
Fortunately, my grandparents survived.
Hurricane Ian took everything. Their home, something they were so proud of, was now gone. Furniture, picture frames and everything in sight – floating down the street.
“I didn’t care about all the junk,” Granny said. “It was the memories we shared in that house that really got to me.”
They were distraught. I flew down to bring them out to Arizona, watching them pack what little they had left, both of them looking visibly anxious.
“We were leaving everything we’ve known,” Granny said. “I’ll tell you one thing, though, I hope I never see a raindrop ever again.”
A recent conversation with Granny was centered around being loyal and showing up no matter what.
Granny is also the reason I’m a Bills fan, something I still jokingly blame her for. She has instilled loyalty in me. After four straight Super Bowl losses in the early 1990s and decades of heartbreaking playoff losses, Granny remains hopeful.
“There’s always next year,” Granny says optimistically.
Her loyalty to the Bills taught me something more than just football. It’s about staying and not leaving when things get tough.
Growing up, Granny showed up to literally everything for her four grandchildren. From graduations to receiving a participation ribbon for a whopping one-base hit throughout the whole season, she was never not there. Granny lived over an hour away from us. That didn’t matter. If I had a basketball game at 8 p.m. and my sister had a school play bright and early the next morning, she was coming to both.
When I asked why she instinctively did that, she didn’t hesitate. “I didn’t want to miss anything.”
In 2015, Granny lost her son Chris to alcohol addiction. Burying her son changed her perspective for the rest of her life.
“When you think you’ve done enough for someone,” Granny said, “there’s always more.”
She vowed to always be there for the good and the bad.
More recently, my grandpa Lenny passed away in 2024 after a long battle with dementia. When I asked Granny how it’s been living alone since Grampy died. She hesitated before answering.
“It was hard at first, but it’s getting better,” she said. “The toughest part was not eating at restaurants with him.”
Then she followed it with a joke as she typically does.
“I can’t complain too much. Since I’ve learned how to DoorDash, it’s my new best friend.”
Granny was always there for my grandpa, whether he knew it or not towards the last few years of his life. Some mornings he thought my grandma was a complete stranger. Though it was tough, she knew how horrible dementia could be.
As my Grandpa was nearing his final moments, he gave my grandma one last thank you as he was sleeping in hospice care.
“He clenched my hands tight,” Granny said. “He couldn’t say anything but I know he was just grateful I was there with him at the end.”
Granny has taught me many things. None bigger than remaining loyal and always showing up for the people you care about most no matter the circumstances.
