Do you remember the feeling you had when mum and dad let you cross the street by yourself for the first time? How 'bout when you first rode your bicycle without training wheels? Under either scenario, you felt good about yourself because you had accomplished something like a big boy or girl. Yesterday evening, I had that same sort of feeling.
I completed my 400 mile round trip to White Salmon in a little less than 10 hours. I was back home before dark! I was able to get all of Della's stuff into the truck by myself without clumsily injuring myself. That right there is a major accomplishment!
I didn't have to deal with even one panic attack. I was my usual nervous wreck driving through Portland, but I didn't lose it. I kept my cool!
But here's probably the most amazing facet of my trip. I drove through 6 tunnels. I hate tunnels. Actually, that's putting it mildly. I loathe tunnels. Coming back from White Salmon, I took Washington State Highway 6. I had to drive through 5 tunnels in the space of about 7 miles. I grit my teeth and hummed very loudly, but I made it through each one without a meltdown.
How was I able to accomplish these things? I think it was because I am emotionally wrung out. This past week with Della in the hospital pretty much exhausted me. I simply didn't have any more emotional energy to expend. So, I just got in the truck and drove.