I made a huge mistake last week. HUGE. It was completely unintentional and done without malice, but nonetheless- -it was a faux pas of epic proportions!

No one lost life or limb. No one was physically, emotionally or psychologically hurt. But I lost a night’s sleep, cried many salty tears in fear and self-loathing over my absurd, imbecilic error. It caused a lot of consternation and unneeded attention for my employers and I regret every second of that.

However, (and this is the really important part), they forgave me. This not-so simple act and the impression it made on me is vast. The reason?  I’ve never been the most forgiving person.

Unfortunately carrying a grudge is a sort of qualification for Italian-Irish families and it is one that I have a strong aptitude in. A talent, a skill, if you will, that I somehow inherited from family members on both sides. I can say that I am better at forgiving people who hurt me, than people who wrong my family and friends.

I know it is a personal failing and I’m working on it. Suffice it to say, I’m a “bit wiser today than I was yesterday.” But yes, to be forgiven, is- -oh so divine!