The last day of the month; by all accounts, it looks like March is coming in like a Lion, so we should have an early Spring after all.  I hope so, anyway.  I am so very tired of all this snow and cold.

Eric and Emilee will be moving over to Jason’s this afternoon.  Jason’s, yes, I have to stop thinking of it as Tom’s house; he’s gone; it saddens me, but it’s the reality of this new life.

We’ve spent many hours, myself, John and Jason, trying to fill Eric in on all the events of the past five months so he understands the mood and attitudes of Moose Creek; new attitudes born from devastating events, horrific attacks, untreatable illness, and isolation; especially the isolation from all we knew;  And the deaths.  Some of us will never get over the losses.

In turn, Eric has relayed what he could of what happened down there.  It wasn’t much better, in fact, sometimes much worse.  The gang violence was rampant; the blacks, the Hispanics, Mexicans, Cubans; they were fighting themselves or each other for territory, or for the limited resources.  There were shootings, executions and arsons on a daily basis, even in the best communities.  Bernita’s daughter, Erin, moved back in for the protection of family and the better neighborhood, also to protect her life-long friend, Roc, her horse.  In spite of the shooting lessons Eric gave her, she was still attacked one day when Emi was in school.  Roc was butchered in front of her, in broad daylight, and then Erin was repeatedly raped.  That is when Bernita actually begged Eric to bring Emi up here.  It took them 8 days to make the trip, hopping one military transport to the next, moving northward in a jagged line, questioned at every stop.  Questioned until he put on his maroon beret, and a jacket with his rank; even retired, he retains his rank.  At one check point, the TSA tried to separate them, but the agent changed his mind quickly, when Eric grabbed him by the throat, and Emi gave him a karate kick to the groin.  The biggest challenge came at Sawyer, when they were not getting back on a flight, and had to have proof of family support to leave the Terminal.  They waited there for almost three days.

As a celebration dinner for the move, we had pizza.  I really wasn’t joyous about their leaving here, but with so little good in our lives, a special event of this nature needs acknowledging, so we call it a celebration.  The kids watched the movie ‘Ice Age’.  I avoided it, not wanting the reminder of what smelled like an approaching winter storm.

As a parting ‘gift’, and because he needed his own weapon, I let Eric take the Mini-14; if he ever went back to Florida, he would have to leave it behind anyway, so it was more of a loan.  He also took the Lady Smith as a personal weapon; I prefer an automatic anyway.  My preference would have been to give Eric the AR-15, but John had become very attached to it and somehow it suited him.

When Jason and Jacob arrived for our pizza dinner, Jason had a surprise for us.

“You won’t believe what I found in the basement staying chilled!” and he set two six packs of beer on the table.  “Thank you Uncle Tommy!”  John’s eyes lit up, and Eric reached for a bottle opener.  Even I had one.