Hello to my few readers that I still have left. I guess mostly I realized that I was writing this blog for myself anyhow, so I have been handwriting more in my journal instead. That was until a man named Rufus in Little Rock, Arkansas emailed me to ask why I stopped writing in my blog Stories from Lazy Eye Ranch. I tried to explain it to him in an email back and he replied that there are at least a few people that look forward to reading it every week or so and that I should continue just for their sake. I said that I have trouble telling the absolute honest truth if I know people will read it and maybe judge me for what I am thinking and feeling. His last email said that it is always risky opening up your self and revealing your darkest fears, but maybe it will inspire others to do so and then we might all feel a little closer as people. I guess I didn't realize that and maybe took for granite that people don't care that much and maybe are too worried about there own lives to care about my problems. I also thought that maybe it doesn't always need to be about me and I can just go back to telling stories about my late Grandfather and the rest of my family and keep researching until I have a more complete picture of my family's past and current history. Thanks Rufus for helping me to see things differently.

For the past 6 months, I have had some more change in my life. My school was shut down at the end of July and I have just completed my first week at the big school in town, Ronald Reagan High School. It was a difficult first week, but before I talk about that, I want to mention that my Grandma Sylvia is still battling lung cancer and my Mom says that she may not make it to Christmas. I went to visit her in Minnesota last month before I started school and she looked really weakened by the cancer. Mom says that Grandma has always been filled with such creative spirit and that it seems as though that spirit is slowly being drained from her. Mom says that seeing me last month helped her spirit and she noticed an improvement during the week I was there, which made me feel sad that I had to leave, but Mom said that Grandma Sylvia is always 'buoyed' by visiting family and that I should feel good that I made her feel better. I do feel better, but wish there was something more I could do. "We are not medicine men", said Dad, "and even they can only do so much". I guess he is right, but maybe we all have hidden abilities to heal ourselves (and others) that we cannot see. I called Cousin Bruce, the yoga teacher, about this and he said, "That is certainly true and we must learn from and build on what others have already learned". "Like who?" I asked and he replied "Eastern doctors from Asian countries and even some here". "I am tired of feeling like I cannot do anything to help the sick people I love", I said and Bruce seemed to really appreciate hearing this and said after a long pause "Me too, buddy, and the best thing we can do is try to help people live healthier lives to prevent them from getting sick. You can help your Mom and Dad by helping to make their lives less stressful and by helping them to eat better". We then talked about their diet and how bad meat can be for people these days and things like that. I mentioned that I tried not eating meat for a whole day and it was really hard. "I know, Jem", he said, "it is hard to change our everyday habits".
This leads me back to my new school and how everyday at my other school, I was used to certain things that don't happen anymore now. I was used to meeting with my writing teacher and advisor, Mr. Grady, before classes started and talking about current events of the school and things we might cover for the next edition of the paper. I miss going out ontop of the hill during lunch to look at the pastures in the lower valley. I miss having class outside in the sunlight and reading under the big aspen tree during free study time. I miss not being picked on by upperclassman who are trying to impress their girlfriends. Most of all, I miss everyone knowing who I am and being happy to see me. At RRHS, people just look down at me or just ignore me like I don't exist... I am not sure which is worse. I really miss my school.
Dad says that it will take time to get to know people and to find my 'niche'. I thought he said my itch which made no sense, but he had to spell 'niche' for me which means: "a comfortable or suitable position in life or employment." He is now a partner at a leading law firm and feels he has found his niche. By the way, 'buoyed' means: "cause to become cheerful or confident." The party was buoyed by an election victory.
So, tomorrow I start my second week of public school and I have decided to write about the experience on this blog and to help me bridge the gap between the two very different places and the two very different experiences. Maybe in the end this blog might make a good case for them to re-open my school or one just like it.
jem


Painting by Diane Weintraub