|Photo description: my hands in wheelchair gloves with the fingers all worn out.|
I finally did it, I retired my old gloves. It was much harder than you might imagine. I liked the fit and feel of these gloves and they are hard to find replacements for. They are not designed for wheelchair use, but they have protected my hands when pushing and given me good break pads when going down hills and ramps.
These gloves have traveled, The have been the ones that saw me through the transition from being pushed to pushing myself. The have been dependable and reliable and really really durable. When they first began to fray, I began to panic a little. I went to stores where I've purchased them before but they were no longer being carried. I tried out other gloves but they didn't feel even slightly right, or the ones that would be okay, if not great, were in delightful florescent orange, I'm not a orange glove guy.
Finally they reached the state in the picture above. Winter is coming. I finally found a wall of gloves, literally, in Canadian Tire and I was off to the races. This trip is my first with the new gloves.
What am I going to do with the old gloves? Ruby has suggested that somewhere in the world there must be a glove museum and she thinks I should send them there.
Wouldn't that be an awesome idea. The gloves that saw a man work himself to the maximum level of freedom that is possible. It's silly, but I love those gloves and the history we have together.
Joe sees them a little differently.
They're gloves, toss em.
I think he may be right.