(Revised 2:30 p.m. PST)
Turns out ostriches don’t actually bury their heads as some kind of response to an unknown threat. Females dig holes for eggs. Mothers put their heads in the holes regularly to rotate them. This is the image that led to the reference of burying one’s head in the sand.
Like an ostrich mama, I thought I was preparing a treasure for the future. I’ve dreamt of having my own pre-k class in my family room. I hoped to enroll students for Fall of 2020. The variety of centers, set up of the classroom, and curriculum rotated through my mind.
Then, an unfortunate series of events delayed the fruition of my dream: suicidal depression, extreme aggravation of fibromyalgia, and COVID. As my world changed drastically, I continued to mull over starting my pre-k class in a much smaller way in Fall of 2021.
A few days ago, my husband asked if I wanted to donate toys and center supplies I’ve purchased for my classroom to a charity providing Christmas gifts to families during this terrible time. Tears sprang to my eyes. We talked. I’m lucky if I get a couple good hours and odds aren’t great they’ll arrive on schedule.
I texted family and a few friends to let them know I was letting go of that dream. Responses included, “I didn’t know you were still thinking about that,” “I’m sorry you’re feeling sad about this,” and “hard time to start a new business.” I hadn’t buried my head in the sand, but I had continued to mull the plan over in my mind, visualizing, even while acknowledging at other times that there’s no way I’m physically capable.
The truth is the pre-k class will not work, and it’s time to find a new dream. Turns out, I was the last to know.
SurvivingSara 