Bullet and the Stairs

In his old age, Bullet has become increasingly afraid. I imagine this has to do with not being able to see or hear very well, but he now needs a chaperone to walk, eat, pee, and/or poop. He also needs encouragement to go up and down the steps. He’s afraid of those, too…probably because he’s slipped a few times and hurt his belly. Yesterday, as we were out for Bullet to “do his numbers” (as Olga-Bullet’s-Co-Parent affectionately says), I noticed something that I thought quite amazing: The individuals steps are as high as Bullet—meaning that Bullet has to jump his entire body height each time he climbs one step. No wonder he gets a running start before he starts climbing! I suppose the momentum propels him forward. And no wonder I’ve always felt an innate desire to congratulate him each time he makes it up the steps! After realizing this fact, I started to wonder if I’d be able to make it up a set of stairs where each step was as high as me: Would I have the courage and determination to get a running start and leap up huge obstacles to get to my destination?... To be honest, that’s what these days feel like to a lot of people--huge, life-sized stairs. The obstacles are big—the upward climb is steep—we’re standing at the bottom, looking up, and we can’t see the top—yet we know that it’s there and that to move forward we must climb… In his old age, Bullet has become increasingly afraid. A lot of us have, too. And yet, the little guy faithfully and dutifully climbs major obstacles every day, a couple of times a day, though sometimes stumbling, because he knows that good things are waiting at the top. May we be like Bullet. May we faithfully and dutifully climb—even when the steps are as big as we are. May we believe, together, that good things are waiting on the other side. And may we encourage one another as we go—because every step really is a triumph…