In Easter in Florida, the topic is hurricanes

Dozens of family and friends from all over the Bay Area came to our home for Easter Brunch. On Jambalaya and Ham, the conversation has changed to what is apparent these days: the hurricane.

My neighbor in Tampa did some tree work before this hurricane season. That was clever. Hurricane Milton hit both us last year. Our friend in Gulfport had neighbors’ tree land in their pool during Hurricane Helene. We exchanged stories about finding Handimen, never-returned haunts, and piles of shards lined the streets for months. And they prepared for the war with plans for this season, which will officially begin in June.

I wasn’t going to write about hurricanes this week. I have planned to write about the scandal surrounding Florida’s charitable hopes that quickly envelop our governor. However, the story does not disappear anytime soon. Standing on a Sunday in my backyard, its warm, refreshing air tapped us on the shoulder, reminding us that the punishing tropical weather of summer is approaching. We turned and looked ahead in conversations that had resigned, stopped and sometimes silent. We then headed for the lemon cake.

Sunday chatter hit me with last year’s hurricane season continuing to shape our spirit. None of us at the party did much damage. My brother, the most difficult hit, had power in a week. However, a sense of fear and uncertainty occurred early. We are all mentally prepared for what we expect to see another positive storm season. Anxiety and fatigue have already been set up last year as if we were telegraphing that these disasters have become more routine and that our defenses have become more inadequate or completely out of reach.

After that, while I was cooking, I wondered what other Floridians were thinking the same way. The entire Gulf community is struggling to recover, from hotels and restaurants along the beach to inland homes and businesses that have been flooded by heavy rains. In Tampa, where I live, residents have been cramming city council meetings almost uninterrupted since last year’s storm, seeking help from insurance companies, contractors and government officials. They want more pumps, better storm drains and new restrictions to prevent development from making things worse. In short, they want to regain normalcy. They want a sense of importance and a confidence to stay.

Let’s face it: How many Florida people have not been seeking peace of mind in imagining other places in the past year? We kicked it on Sunday too. Carolina? Colorado? Florida interior? About half of my guests are born in this state and all live here long enough to consider homes in the Tampa Bay Area. They have built their lives and families here, and while everything is drawn to family, friends and other states, no one is seriously thinking about moving. Even now. We are on the west coast of Florida. The storm is uneasy, bold and fierce. However, no one in my house had reached the breaking point.

I can’t imagine what the decision to leave would look like. I understand the mixed feelings that some Floridians have about putting. Between homes, insurance and transportation, Florida is an increasingly expensive place to live. The ocean is rising, wages are ok, and workplaces are in a pinch of major service sector industries such as tourism and entertainment. Florida’s historic aversion to taxes has created a multi-billion dollar gap in infrastructure, growing the state on a crumbling backbone. And we have failed to train enough teachers, merchants and healthcare workers to meet the needs of society.

We didn’t come up with a breakthrough on Sunday. In that sense, nothing has changed. When the time comes, you’ll be caught up in action. I don’t remember thinking about it on Easter.