Funny what triggers a memory...

I think this is a Canary Island Date Palm, but I’m not sure. 

I thought it was a type of palmetto, which got me thinking about palmetto bugs, aka flying cockroaches, which reminded me of growing up in Miami and why to this day I put glasses and mugs upside down in the cabinets.

Then, upon pondering my childhood in southern Florida, I remembered the time in 1964, when my mother was in the hospital delivering my youngest sister Lois, that my sisters Patti and Beth (and maybe I was involved, I don’t recall…) pitched tons of apricots from one neighbor’s yard over a very tall hedge into another neighbor’s yard. Our grandmother made us go over and pick up all those apricots.

The neighbors who we assaulted happened to be an older middle-aged couple, probably in their 60s, named Bonafiglio. I think her name was Isabella and his was Frank or Vincent, but the family anecdote is that he was retired Mafia (or maybe he wasn’t so retired…who knows?).

Isabella had waist-long graying hair that she normally kept pinned up in a chignon and when she washed it once a week she would sit in the back yard in a kitchen chair to let it dry in the sun. She also had a capuchin monkey; we were invited inside the house once. Mr. B wore a wife-beater undershirt with slacks and a belt and dress shoes. At least, that’s what my memory says.

Awesome, Not Aww-some

On my daily walks around a very well-to-do neighborhood, I try to find something new every day. This neighborhood is ranked among the top 50 wealthiest communities in the United States. Last fall I amused myself by keeping track of the number of Romney signs versus Obama signs. I happened to mention that to someone recently and she said that some of the more strident Romney supporters would repeatedly remove the Obama yard signs. One woman got a bit more clever:

I alternate between two routes in the middle of the walk, which begins with one bridge and ends with another. One route takes me past that house, which I call the Talking House because the owner puts a new message up every week or so. Some of the banners are fun and whimsical; others are honest and full of hope:

Earlier this week on a walk, I was thinking about the whimsical and winsome nature of some homes in this neighborhood, crammed right next to more stately, grander homes. The former have something about them that causes the passer-by to say “Aww!” And then you come upon a monument of a home that invokes awe.

So much of what we gravitate towards has the Aww! factor. I’m sure you’ve seen lots of puppy and kitten memes posted on Facebook and watched more than a few cute YouTube baby videos. But a steady diet of things that make us go Aww! can cause us to miss – or dismiss – the things that awe:

While pondering the human penchant for cute and cuddly, it brought to mind a trend in faith and religion – that of trying to take the “awe” out of God in order to make Him appear more approachable, more buddy-like. While there’s a time and a place for knowing Jesus as a friend, I worry that our culture will more and more favor the image of the Baby Jesus and forget about the Savior Jesus, bowed and bloody on the cross.

I don’t know about you, but I want my God and my Savior to put awe in my heart and soul. Someone who has laid down his life for me is more deserving of my unending awe than a momentary Aww!