My ancestry is mainly Scottish, Irish, and Swedish. My father was very proud of his Scottish and Irish background. The Swede comes from my mother, who also has a Scottish background. As all other Americans claim I also have a small amount of American Indian.  What tribe? I don’t know. My Dad knew and probably told me, but I have forgotten.

My Dad’s temperament was mainly Irish. He was happy and friendly. He liked people, liked a good gathering of either family or friends, and loved to talk, to spin a tale. Ask anyone that knows him and they will more than likely tell you the same. He liked to drink Jameson Irish Whiskey straight and often chased it with black coffee. His mother’s family was mainly Irish I think.  I remember when my great-grandmother (well past the age of 100) passed away.  Family came from all over.  Great aunts and uncles, cousins, that I had never met. I remember them all being at my grandmother’s house, a huge group of Naylors. I have two very distinct memories of that gathering. One was my grandmother and her sister fighting over whether my great grandmother (their mother) should be buried wearing her glasses or not wearing her glasses.  The other is my grandmother’s house full of relatives and every single one of them seemed to be talking at the same time and nobody seemed to be listening to what anybody else was saying. Yet they all seemed happy and content just to be together.

My Dad and I once had a conversation where he told me that my sister has the typical Irish temper. Like him, she got angry quickly, but just as quickly got over it. He said she would be ready to fight you in one moment and walk arm and arm with you to get a drink or a bite to eat. But I, he said, had a typical Scottish temper. He said I was a slow boil. Yes I can fly off the handle, but he said I would more than likely to appear to take an offense and walk away. But beware he said, when you least expect it I will slit your throat and walk happily away and never look back.

Yes, this is actually what my Dad told me and he said it with a smile on his face as if he were proud. He told me some stories about his father’s side of the family. His grandfather leaving Alabama with his family as a young boy because of an argument with relatives. Never to be heard from again until we went back to Alabama in the late 60’s.  Other stories where guns were involved and people that disappeared and were never seen or heard from again.

Now I don’t think I’ve ever felt the need to “do away” with anyone permanently, for them never to be seen or heard from again. But I do admit that I have a rather unforgiving disposition. Once I feel that I have been disrespected, insulted, or maligned I’m pretty much done. I don’t feel the need to discuss it or allow someone to apologize. There have been times things have happened and an apology was offered and I accepted it. But I was very firm about letting that person know that the friendship was over.

I think forgiveness is an essential part of life, but I prefer not to allow people into my day to day life who are not dependable, honest, and respectful.

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