Palm Sunday is one of the major holidays of the Catholic faith.

Palm Sunday commemorates the triumphant entrance of Jesus into Jerusalem. Matthew 21:1-9. Jesus came riding in on the back of an ass. The people shouted his praises. Threw palm branches in His path as a sign of honor.

Sunday was good. The rest of the week would be bad. Jesus would suffer Gethsemane and crucifixion. However one week later on the following Sunday, He would triumph again. He would rise from the dead.

Palms continue to play a part in the festivities of this day in many Christian churches. Catholic, Lutheran, Methodist, Anglican, and Moravian.

My experience is limited to the Catholic Church and my comments are limited to that which I recall.

In the days of my youth, late 1930’s and forward, everyone went to Church on Palm Sunday. Had to get palms. Depending on the supply, each person attending got one or more palms.

These were taken home with multiple purposes in mind.

The previous year’s palms were removed from over crosses and holy pictures in the home. There were many crosses and holy pictures! A cross in every room guaranteed.

Everyone came to visit. Relatives and friends. The custom was to exchange palms. Greet, hug and exchange. Soon the house was full. Coffee and cookies.

Uncles were many. I used to think every adult male was an uncle. Some were not. However, each adult male knew how to make tiny crosses from a stalk of palm. Intricate. Lovely. It was an honor to be given one.

I used to sit on the living room floor with them and watch in awe.

The old palms (last year’s) were taken down and returned to the Church during the week. The priests would save them and burn them before Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent. They became the source of ashes placed on foreheads on Ash Wednesday.

It was a big family meal day. Everyone at Grandma’s. Extra special food. Almost as good as Easter Sunday and Christmas Eve.

Happy Palm Sunday friends. I apologize. I have no palms to share. I have not been to Church on Palm Sunday in years. One of the fallen away.

My day was made yesterday by a phone call. Jean Thornton! She and Joe had been in Hawaii for a month and since returning neither of us had tried to contact the other.

It was good to hear from her. Love the woman!

We spoke of the virus. She is concerned not only for her and Joe, but the children and grandchildren. We spoke of our dear President, quarantine, etc.

She and Joe are self quarantining. However they take a walk every day staying away from everyone and have been working their property trimming trees, arranging new flower beds, etc.

You will recall Tammy is one of the bartenders at the Chart Room. Jean told me poor Tammy came down with coronavirus. She was now home. Her senses of smell and taste began returning yesterday. She was feeling better. Planned on a bike ride today.

I was unaware Tammy had been sick. I called her. No answer. Left a message for her to call me today. Can’t wait to chat with her.

It’s no wonder Tammy acquired the virus. The Chart Room was pack packed the weeks before it shut down. Her getting sick inevitable.

Jean said Captain Peter had called. He is now living in Melbourne. Sounded terrific.

The weather folks are into hurricane projections. The season is June 1 to November 30. I recall when I first started coming to Key West 30 years ago, it was it was September 1 to October 31.

How Mother Nature changes things!

We are warned of 16 hurricanes. Four expected to be major storms. Categories 3-5. At least one is expected to make landfall.

I have learned to place no faith in these early projections. Never work out as predicted. Some worse, some nothing.

One of the commentors to the blog shared an interesting quote. By Jonathan Swift. Fits the Donald situation: “Falsehood flies, and truth comes limping after it.”

We all need a break. I am severely limiting my Trump comments today. After a while, although important, become too much.

A few however. A very few.

Trump advises there is a rough week ahead. Glad he is finally acknowledging the severity of the problem. Says, “There will be deaths.”

Trump needs a trip. A special trip. He should go to New York City and see first hand what coronavirus has wrought. Then perhaps he would understand the disaster is not mere words. Let him walk through the hospital corridors with people lying on some sort of bed or on the floor. Let him hear the breathing of those who do not have an inhalator. Let him hear the complaints of the medical staff. Let him see the transport vehicles lined up with dead bodies.

And he should remember to leave the paper towels home!

Trump and some of the governors are crazy. No question about it. Social separation is one of the keys to beating the virus. Yet Trump and certain cohorts all of a sudden are bleeding hearts. People should be permitted to go to Church on Easter Sunday.

Non-thinkers all! Trump says anything he believes might get him a vote. Governors like Florida’s De Santis follow his beliefs to the letter. Their cry: Coronavirus should not be permitted to interfere with religious services on Easter.

Asses all. Some who go to Church on Easter Sunday might spend it next year sitting at the right hand of God.

The days become easier. I write more. Watch PGA golf a bit each day. Recorded tournaments from one or more years ago.

Enjoy your Sunday!