I wondered what it was like to “wheel” in my daughter’s chair.

One Year of Letters


December 7, 2015

I am not as strong as my children, particularly my Sarah. In an attempt to understand what my girl goes through, I borrowed her wheelchair for an afternoon of shopping.

Dirty hands. I wore her gloves, yet the gunk accumulated. When I wheeled into the restroom to wash up (what an experience that was!) I found blisters. I now understand Sarah’s thick callouses. To leave the restroom required filing a logistical flight plan and a ten-point turn.

I wondered how Sarah shredded her clothing. I now understand. The cloth catches in the wheels and snags on the Velcro. So did my hair. When we designed the chair, we ordered a cushy seat, but surprise! The padded seat is not comfortable. I think I may have permanent damage as a result of this experiment. (Not really.)

People openly stared. I ignored them, the same way my little…

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