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My crazy teenage daughter - Leanne Morgan

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Meet Braveheart's significantly less brave brother, Dave.

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Welcome to Honor Your Truth The Is It True? Series Episode Seventy-Three The best way to a mans heart is through his stomach We all ate dinner at the kitchen table unless it was TV tray night. TV tray night consisted of the TV tray, the TV dinner, and the Dick Van Dyke show (the one where Rob trips over the couch and Laura is at home waiting not out on her own throwing her hat up in the air). The only TV dinner I can ever remember eating was Salisbury steak. I have no idea what Salisbury steak is, but I ate it. At some point in my childhood, I decided all meat and any other living thing was not acceptable food. Thirty-some years later I feel differently, but that s another story. We didn t have TV tray nights very often because my parents believed in saying grace, eating together, and being excused. The dining room was for special occasions with the relatives. That whole room seemed like such a big waste of space because we only used maybe twice a year. We ate all family meals at the kitchen table in the kitchen and kept an eye out for Dad through the wooden shudders of the windows. He was either late or not there at all. When he was there, he would come home and take his place with a big old smile on his face happy to be home .and happy to be in front of a plate of food made by Mom. My Mom was often mad that he was late, but I don t think he noticed. Nothing ever changed. When we were growing up, my Dad was gone most of the time. For the first 6 years of my life, we lived in Green Bay and Dad had an apt in Chicago. He would come home on the weekends, and given what I know about my Dad, the weekend meant that he came home late on Saturday and left when the game was over on Sunday. He was the classic traveling salesman , an archetype long forgotten it seems. He worked for a company in Green Bay, but was opening up his own business in Chicago. He worked extremely long hours and although he did it for himself, he also did it for his rapidly expanding family, The Hadrabas . Sometimes when he would come home he would put something at the foot of all of our beds for us to find when we woke up the next morning. I remember one trip to Mexico when he came back with handmade dolls .one in a different color for each of us. Mine was red. I can picture him laying them all out there. We loved those dolls. Other times, he would wake us up in the morning with my moms ukulele and he d be singing real loud, I ve been workin on the railroad, all the live long day You had no choice but to get up. Trust me. Mom made all the mom-ish meals and my Dad loved her cooking .meatloaf, pot roast, spaghetti, fried chicken, stroganoff, every casserole known to man and so on. She has a roll top desk that is more of a recipe box holder than anything. Recently, my sister wanted to make my Dad his favorite cake which is pineapple upside down cake. My Mom could not find the recipe and my sister told her not to worry because she could probably find it online easily. You would have thought somebody threw a bomb in the kitchen window. All of the sudden the worlds not the same anymore, no one has any values anymore, there s nothing to pass down anymore, with the crescendo being what s the point to cooking at all. We do drama well, but it was sad in a way. I honestly remember thinking that my ex-husband would never find a woman who could cook as good as I could and feeling some comfort in that, that somehow I would remain present instead of drifting into his nothingness .that he would never quite get over losing me. I cooked all his meals like my mom would. I was a homemaker, even if I couldn t communicate enough to save a marriage. Today although I cannot speak for him, I highly doubt he remembers my lasagna, much less thinks about it, nor does he wish to do things over, much less have me back. It was a long time ago. The meals were not a breaking point, not a selling point, not even a moot point. My Dad expects to be fed and my Mom prefers he stays out of the kitchen. I didn t see a lot of affection between my parents growing up like kissing, hugging, holding hands, talking quietly but maybe those were the times. I don t know. Rob and Laura had separate beds, but they loved each other, ya know what I m sayin . My parents do love each other...maybe not how I imagine love to be, but they do. Just the other day, I heard my Dad say; Mom takes good care of me . She was in the kitchen whistling. I better get cooking because I like to cook. I Honor My Truth! Debra Hadraba

Welcome to Honor Your Truth The Is It True? Series Episode Seventy-Four Silence is Golden I have those little orange foam earplugs that come with their own handy carrying case. My parents keep their TV on all day, everyday and I can t think. It s usually news and I need a brain check. My sister can work like this, but she has 3 kids, and a husband. She claims this as a probable reason. I wouldn t know, but it seems to make sense. My mom has clocks all over the house that make some kind of noise ..cuckoo clocks, grandfather clocks, clocks that make a different sound on the hour the bird clock, the holiday clock, the golf clock, the football clock, the choo-choo train and the frog clock to name a few. She puts a towel over the loudest, the cuckoo clock, when we come home. I think it has more to do with all of the kids that can t seem to keep there hands off the chime chains, rather than the sleep we lose after 3 am. We are night owls , up all hours, but we also like to sleep ..in the day. We sleep until we don t want to, no matter how noisy, no matter the conditions. I must admit I do appreciate the dishtowel system immensely whether it is meant for me or not. I often end up sleeping on the couch in the living room, in close proximity to the cuckoo. When everyone is in town, there are people sleeping everywhere. I have slept underneath the kitchen table in a pinch. I didn t necessarily plan on it. It just worked out that way. You gotta claim your turf early or you end up on the pull-out or the fold-up. I m not complaining, but both have a bar or something that jabs you in the rib cage I actually prefer one of the couches, but you gotta deal with the cuckoo .unless it s under the dish towel and then your good. Regardless, grab your pillow and blanket combo ASAP. There are some cozy, normal ones, but most are strange not quite big enough, long enough, short sheets with stuff sewn on them. My mom is a quilter. She makes a lot of quilts and pillows which have trinkets, buttons, and baubles, all sewn on top. As I have gotten older, my skin doesn t bounce back like it used to. It could take a good 2-3 hrs to lose a snowflake or a duck imprint off my face .so I m mindful of that. My Dad turns his head as he climbs the stair for sleep, you kids get to bed , but we don t and we re loud. Most boyfriends I bring home to meet the family hit a wall at some point any wall, and they can t take it anymore. They talk on their cell phone for hours in their car or start driving back to Minnesota without explanation. Historically, I attract the only child , one who doesn t quite understand the beauty in volume, chaos, and life-size love ..I grew up around noise ..laughing too hard .crying too much ..or otherwise. Everyone s in everyone s business and no ones keeping quiet about it. I grew up around Speak now or forever hold your piece which my mom often said, so we spoke it if we could, unless we didn t ..when we should have. This in addition to Children should be seen and not heard made for an impossible juxtaposition ..a corner you can t get out of .someone you can t please, perfectly. We have our own voice, yet also listen and can learn. I don t need to say every feeling I have when I have it. I can feel it when someone I am talking to is merely for their turn. I do thank them for waiting, but I can feel it when they are. They aren t present, but somewhere lost deep in their own head, putting thoughts together and a plan to make them cool. Could we stop right there and say we re both enough? I always think I m dorky. My fear is that I ve led someone to believe that I m not patient, that I don t care what they may say, that I can t speak and also hear, that I am closed and far away. I look into their eyes and I open up my ears to hear them, my heart. I know it feels good to be heard. Sometimes that s all we need. Sometimes it s in the silence, the peace we feel alone. No noise, no sound , no nothing .so we can meditate and hear the voice of God .the small still voice in our heart that speaks to us if we are willing to listen if we can silence the chatter long enough to hear it. I practice silence of the tongue and silence of the mind, but it s that it s easier. It s a choice and it s a good one. There is a God that is in me and is in you. I Honor My Truth!

Welcome to Honor Your Truth The Is It True? Series Episode Seventy-Five To Err is Human, to Forgive Divine I had just gotten my drivers license. I was drivin the big red caddy. We called this car the boat . It was HUGE. You could cruise around with a good 6-8 people comfortably. I considered living in it a few times when I was getting along with my parents. On this particular night, I was heading over to a friend s house to hang out and listen to RUSH 2112. That record had just came out. It was like nothing anyone had ever heard before. My sister knew all the words. She was kinda known for it. My friend lived on the corner of Flint Creek and something. I missed the turn to his driveway, and instead landed on his neighbors lawn. I had done what was otherwise known as a lawn job by accident. If you don t know what that is, a driver or drivers plow through a lawn creating all sorts of havoc. It can be random, or fully orchestrated. You drive on, and you drive off with total disregard for any kind of ornamental shrubbery, flowers, statues or anything. I was in the car one time. I was really scared and felt bad. It would never be my idea of a fun night out. One does this because they re mad or in love, its homecoming or prom, or they re just plain bored on a Saturday night. It s a step below T.P.-ing which is covering a lawn and its trees with toilet paper. T.P.-ing is a total mess and God forbid it rains, but a lawn job can be worse depending on how many cars you got goin . It can create a heckuva lot of damage. Although I was just one girl, I did a great job. I went up on the lawn and drove over a newly planted tree. I saw it pop up behind me in the rear view mirror. Excellent. I was like, hmm, Did I just run over a tree? and 2 seconds later it went boing from under the back bumper. I was in big trouble now. I was petrified. I contemplated driving away. Back then I would go into a complete shame spiral whenever I did something wrong . I still do when it concerns a vehicle. I had an accident some years ago and you would have thought the world was coming to an end. The police officer on the scene and the guy I crashed into didn t know quite what to do with me. I was hysterical. I couldn t stop crying. I reverted back to the little girl who spilt the milk. I sat there and realized their was only one thing to do, the right thing. I went up to their door, rang the bell and the Dad came to the door. I said, I just ran over your tree by accident . Well it turns out that someone else had already driven over the baby tree, but more intentionally. It truly was a lawn job . He was still very angry about that, and no one had come to his door to apologize. Then I show up and he was livid. I agreed to pay any damages and ultimately replace the tree if needed. He dragged me out there to look at the tree. He was still yelling. He wouldn t stop. He was a crazy person. His wife finally came into the picture and she was able to get him to calm down. We went inside and she brought me some water. I was really upset. I don t know where the man went. I never saw him again. I think back about that man periodically. He had a wildfire in his eyes. At the time, I didn t understand that his rage was not about me. When I knocked on his door, I was opening up all sorts of unresolved pain, old resentments allowed to fester and grow. This is my guess. Anger compounds on itself. A very extreme lifelong argument the kind that escalates and you don t even know what the fight is actually about anymore. I usually start laughing before it gets that bad. I know people who have gone to great lengths to avoid a person. If you ask them why, the reason is often vague or very convoluted. Neither party wants to budge. Forgiveness is often a process, but it can be a decision in the moment. Would I rather be right, or happy? That man was not able to react appropriately to the event because he was not in the present. He was somewhere else. He wasn t conscious. So many people wander around like this, not knowing they are free to make their own choices .not really living bound by the past. I have found that forgiving myself is an integral part of the forgiveness plan. I used to feel a little annoyed when someone a therapist or otherwise would say, You must forgive yourself first . I wanted to hold on to my anger and shame. The idea of self love was frankly nauseating again another kind of victim mentality to shed. Maybe I felt if I was busy beating myself up then I wouldn t have to actually assume responsibility for my life and my choices. I don t want to judge myself or anyone else that harshly. We are human. We make mistakes. We can learn from them. We can do better. I strive to forgive myself for all the many times I didn t honor my truth, for all the times I lived in fear of being myself. We have divine goodness in us. I Honor Your Truth. Debra Hadraba The Honor Your Truth Community

Welcome to Honor Your Truth The Is It True? Series Episode Seventy-Six Look at the Bright Side I had my sister throw me a sleeping bag out the second story window. Apparently, things weren t going well at home. I was running away. I didn t have a well thought out plan. It was really a cry for help, but not a very good one. There were a few years during which I was always making some kind of scene causing some kind of ruckus in the house. I made mountains out of mole hills. Maybe I thought no one would notice if I didn t. The feelings we keep inside can come out in all sorts of wild and crazy ways. I was a teenager, but I know there were kids that didn t behave like I did. My mom told me that she worried about the kids we hung around being a bad influence on us. We had moved from a small Catholic school to a public school. I was a freshman new to high school and new to public school. She was surprised to find out it was actually her kids that were the instigators. I don t remember exactly what was going on, but I m fairly certain it didn t warrant such extreme measures. They rarely work anyway. I m sure I scared my sister. I didn t have a plan, so I ended up in the pool shed. The shed had a storage area that was a very small lofted area about the size of a pup tent. I would have preferred the pup tent, but I didn t think of that in my state of hysteria. It was summer and it was hotter than a pistol and I was up in the loft roasting. There wasn t a window. There was one small opening that the ladder came up through supplying the air. It was the closest I ever wanna come to cooking myself in an oven. I pouted up there for a while. I thought no one noticed I was missing. I came to find out that everyone, including my parents, knew I was up there. My mom saw me sneak out of the pool shed and watched me back my way out through the thorn bushes into the neighbors yard. When I woke up in the morning, it was as if I was awakening from a coma. I d wake from a deep sleep sweating and disoriented. I had intense dreams in which my teeth were falling out. They were crumbling like old brick walls do. They fell out in my hands. I was trying to catch them and put them back in my mouth. I d put the teeth back in and they d pop right back out and shoot across the room. I walked around asking for help, approaching complete strangers that would run away scared. I would have this dream every now and again for years when I was really stressed out or something wasn t right . I don t know exactly what the dream meant. I know felt a lot of anxiety and depression in my teens. If anyone asked me, I couldn t have articulated what was wrong or what it was I needed at the time. I know I felt weird, like I didn t fit that something was inherently wrong with me. Do you remember when you were a kid and everything seemed really huge? All my feelings were gigantic. Even the little things were a major deal. Everything seemed so final, so forever. It would never get better and I might never be happy again. We had no frame of reference, no past experience with which to frame things nothing to compare anything to .to make some sense of it all. We hadn t lived life long enough to learn there is a reason for everything. More is always revealed. Time will tell us it s all good, so in fact it s all good now. It is just as easy for me to get overwhelmed by the good things as it is the bad things . Both desperation and inspiration can put me right over the edge. They are both so alive and filled to the brim with energy. They can escalate like crazy if I let them. While following my heart with inspired action is exciting, it can spin right out of control. I forget I m doing what I love. I forget to be happy, to enjoy. I continually ground myself stop everything and breathe. Bring myself back to the love. I do the next right thing, the thing that feels right to me. I can t possibly know what that is if I m not quiet enough to hear it. My heart will always speak to me. I Honor My Truth! Debra Hadraba The Honor Your Truth Community

Welcome to Honor Your Truth The Is It True? Series Episode Seventy-Seven Don t count your chickens before they hatch I have been in the restaurant business for 30+ years. When I first started out, I learned something we call, sense of urgency . While it seems innate in some, it can also be drummed into a person. If you do happen to be a natural and possess this particular talent, it is said to be the mark of a good server. I have used it in my dialogue for training. It means to always be on alert for a busload to pull up, ready to get slammed at any given moment. If a person has a sense of urgency , they are always on their toes, they move like a whirling dervish whipping around the dining room filling water glasses faster than people can drink them. We have eyes on the back of our head. A good server is acutely aware of the smallest need to hurry sensing the rush is coming and being prepared for it at all times. Service with a smile. We are tongue-tied and fried at the end of a shift. It is often difficult to put a sentence together. I think I may have lost a few boyfriends in the wake of a bad night. We ve run around like a nut, been up and smiling for hours. I never feel like talking. It is common to work a double shift and really tie one on. It s been a love/hate relationship for me. Today I thought, Are we teaching stress? How many stress balls have I trained that are roaming the streets of the city? There are bars in Chicago that stay open after hours for the industry people . I spent many of the wee hours during the 80 s and 90 s at the Rip Tide winding down. I don t do that anymore but I definitely don t go right to bed when I am done. I am changing, but it does mean that I consciously choose to breathe and take it easy. I choose to chill. I have days when I m successful and days when I fail miserably. I am overwhelmed and I talk to the chatter in my head out loud. I work harder, not smarter. I try not to beat myself up when I do. I train differently now. It s not about waiting for the roof to blow off. It s not about taking a zillion and a half steps when 2 will do just fine. They do this because they re anxious. All the staff needs to know is the place that they are going and where they re going next. If they cannot answer those 2 questions, they need to ask for help. I train them to come to me before they are in the weeds , not after they get there. I use this in my own life. Where am I going, and where am I going next? It reminds me not to get too ahead of myself. I still get off track and find myself tongue-tied like a busy night at the restaurant. In an attempt to keep everything organized, I have a daily list, a master list, and little sub-lists under the master list on my wall .and then of course, I have my dream board. I love a good list. My whole family makes lists. We get excited and then gotta make a list. We love super cool list paper with and without the magnet. We write things done we ve already done just to cross them off. It feels good to cross things off and we don t want to miss it. You can put things down like wash hair or get gas if you re feeling like you haven t done anything. I feel like I m making progress and then I do. A list is great but a list won t do me any good if I am in a state of panic. I m staring at the lists and getting way ahead of myself. If I feel like I will never get it all done that I have too much to do and too little time, then I m probably right and I won t get it done. If the cup is half empty because I m not honoring my accomplishments, then I am overwhelmed and disappointed in myself. I am lost and in the weeds . However, in the midst of all the chaos, I know exactly what to do. My heart knows its desire. My heart wants me to get to where I m going. It wants me to do what I m meant to do. I must be calm enough to feel it and quiet enough to hear it. I breathe and it is simple. The answer is always the one that brings me a feeling of peace. I Honor My Truth! Welcome to Honor Your Truth The Is It True? Series Episode Seventy-Seven Don t count your chickens before they hatch I have been in the restaurant business for 30+ years. When I first started out, I learned something we call, sense of urgency . While it seems innate in some, it can also be drummed into a person. If you do happen to be a natural and possess this particular talent, it is said to be the mark of a good server. I have used it in my dialogue for training. It means to always be on alert for a busload to pull up, ready to get slammed at any given moment. If a person has a sense of urgency , they are always on their toes, they move like a whirling dervish whipping around the dining room filling water glasses faster than people can drink them. We have eyes on the back of our head. A good server is acutely aware of the smallest need to hurry sensing the rush is coming and being prepared for it at all times. Service with a smile. We are tongue-tied and fried at the end of a shift. It is often difficult to put a sentence together. I think I may have lost a few boyfriends in the wake of a bad night. We ve run around like a nut, been up and smiling for hours. I never feel like talking. It is common to work a double shift and really tie one on. It s been a love/hate relationship for me. Today I thought, Are we teaching stress? How many stress balls have I trained that are roaming the streets of the city? There are bars in Chicago that stay open after hours for the industry people . I spent many of the wee hours during the 80 s and 90 s at the Rip Tide winding down. I don t do that anymore but I definitely don t go right to bed when I am done. I am changing, but it does mean that I consciously choose to breathe and take it easy. I choose to chill. I have days when I m successful and days when I fail miserably. I am overwhelmed and I talk to the chatter in my head out loud. I work harder, not smarter. I try not to beat myself up when I do. I train differently now. It s not about waiting for the roof to blow off. It s not about taking a zillion and a half steps when 2 will do just fine. They do this because they re anxious. All the staff needs to know is the place that they are going and where they re going next. If they cannot answer those 2 questions, they need to ask for help. I train them to come to me before they are in the weeds , not after they get there. I use this in my own life. Where am I going, and where am I going next? It reminds me not to get too ahead of myself. I still get off track and find myself tongue-tied like a busy night at the restaurant. In an attempt to keep everything organized, I have a daily list, a master list, and little sub-lists under the master list on my wall .and then of course, I have my dream board. I love a good list. My whole family makes lists. We get excited and then gotta make a list. We love super cool list paper with and without the magnet. We write things done we ve already done just to cross them off. It feels good to cross things off and we don t want to miss it. You can put things down like wash hair or get gas if you re feeling like you haven t done anything. I feel like I m making progress and then I do. A list is great but a list won t do me any good if I am in a state of panic. I m staring at the lists and getting way ahead of myself. If I feel like I will never get it all done that I have too much to do and too little time, then I m probably right and I won t get it done. If the cup is half empty because I m not honoring my accomplishments, then I am overwhelmed and disappointed in myself. I am lost and in the weeds . However, in the midst of all the chaos, I know exactly what to do. My heart knows its desire. My heart wants me to get to where I m going. It wants me to do what I m meant to do. I must be calm enough to feel it and quiet enough to hear it. I breathe and it is simple. The answer is always the one that brings me a feeling of peace. I Honor My Truth! Welcome to Honor Your Truth The Is It True? Series Episode Seventy-Seven Don t count your chickens before they hatch I have been in the restaurant business for 30+ years. When I first started out, I learned something we call, sense of urgency . While it seems innate in some, it can also be drummed into a person. If you do happen to be a natural and possess this particular talent, it is said to be the mark of a good server. I have used it in my dialogue for training. It means to always be on alert for a busload to pull up, ready to get slammed at any given moment. If a person has a sense of urgency , they are always on their toes, they move like a whirling dervish whipping around the dining room filling water glasses faster than people can drink them. We have eyes on the back of our head. A good server is acutely aware of the smallest need to hurry sensing the rush is coming and being prepared for it at all times. Service with a smile. We are tongue-tied and fried at the end of a shift. It is often difficult to put a sentence together. I think I may have lost a few boyfriends in the wake of a bad night. We ve run around like a nut, been up and smiling for hours. I never feel like talking. It is common to work a double shift and really tie one on. It s been a love/hate relationship for me. Today I thought, Are we teaching stress? How many stress balls have I trained that are roaming the streets of the city? There are bars in Chicago that stay open after hours for the industry people . I spent many of the wee hours during the 80 s and 90 s at the Rip Tide winding down. I don t do that anymore but I definitely don t go right to bed when I am done. I am changing, but it does mean that I consciously choose to breathe and take it easy. I choose to chill. I have days when I m successful and days when I fail miserably. I am overwhelmed and I talk to the chatter in my head out loud. I work harder, not smarter. I try not to beat myself up when I do. I train differently now. It s not about waiting for the roof to blow off. It s not about taking a zillion and a half steps when 2 will do just fine. They do this because they re anxious. All the staff needs to know is the place that they are going and where they re going next. If they cannot answer those 2 questions, they need to ask for help. I train them to come to me before they are in the weeds , not after they get there. I use this in my own life. Where am I going, and where am I going next? It reminds me not to get too ahead of myself. I still get off track and find myself tongue-tied like a busy night at the restaurant. In an attempt to keep everything organized, I have a daily list, a master list, and little sub-lists under the master list on my wall .and then of course, I have my dream board. I love a good list. My whole family makes lists. We get excited and then gotta make a list. We love super cool list paper with and without the magnet. We write things done we ve already done just to cross them off. It feels good to cross things off and we don t want to miss it. You can put things down like wash hair or get gas if you re feeling like you haven t done anything. I feel like I m making progress and then I do. A list is great but a list won t do me any good if I am in a state of panic. I m staring at the lists and getting way ahead of myself. If I feel like I will never get it all done that I have too much to do and too little time, then I m probably right and I won t get it done. If the cup is half empty because I m not honoring my accomplishments, then I am overwhelmed and disappointed in myself. I am lost and in the weeds . However, in the midst of all the chaos, I know exactly what to do. My heart knows its desire. My heart wants me to get to where I m going. It wants me to do what I m meant to do. I must be calm enough to feel it and quiet enough to hear it. I breathe and it is simple. The answer is always the one that brings me a feeling of peace. I Honor My Truth! Debra Hadraba

Welcome to Honor Your Truth The Is It True? Series Episode Seventy-Eight No one knows what the future holds I went to a psychic once nope that s a lie more than once. Not in a number of years, but I ve been and I m tempted at times. I went to the eerie type who establishes themselves by putting a sign in the window or a shingle in the yard to coax people. I drove by a particular sign to and from work for years. I wondered, "Could I slither up to the door incognito enough to knock, knock my way to freedom?" .freedom from the troubling chatter in my head that always seemed to want to scare me. I wanted some relief from the constant fear of what might happen. Maybe if I knew the future I could control it or prepare for it in a way that I wouldn t get hurt. I was looking for someone to tell me it was all going to be ok. I wanted a heads up on my situation and I couldn t resist it. I stood there and I shook on the porch, looking around hoping no one sees me. A guy let me in and said his aunt would be right down. I could hear arguing coming from somewhere. The lady that showed up looked totally fried. Her eyes were bloodshot and she had stains on her shirt. The whole experience was bizarre. She told me I looked cold and gave me a fleece lined jean jacket that I d never wear, but I couldn t say no. It had a jungle scene with a large orange and black tiger stitched in the middle of the back. She told me I should come back the next day bringing coffee and sugar and $75 more dollars. She said it was very serious, but she could help me. I needed a weeklong spiritual cleanse to the tune of $350. I did need some kind of a cleanse. This I already knew without her. My experiences are all different. They each have their own flavor and feel. I went to a tarot card reader to find out if my boyfriend at the time was cheating on me. He had left on a road trip to figure things out . He met a woman that he stayed with for about a month. I was sure they were having sex. The tarot reader told me, No, he wasn t sleeping with her . I was so sure that he was. She told me, The cards don t lie . I left her presence feeling confused, still desperate for the truth because I didn t feel that I had it. I found out later that while he wasn t sleeping with her, he was sleeping with someone else. My intuition was already telling me what I wanted to know. I was looking for proof. It seems that I often search for proof when I already know because I don t trust myself. I saw an astrologer when I was at the Wellness Expo. There was a roped off area with all kinds of readers sitting at little tables like a restaurant. You could order whatever you wanted from crystals and gemstones, to faith healers and palm readers, it was a smorgasbord. I chose the stars; something about the stars gives me comfort to infinity and beyond. I chose the woman I chose because I liked the look in her eyes, although I have no idea what that look was. She said, "you'll never a lifelong partner, but many monogamous relationships , and, "you'll never have children". She said it rather nonchalantly as though it were no big deal. It certainly was to me. It was very hard to hear, but truthfully, I knew it in my heart already. It makes more and more sense all the time. I have wondered if the power of suggestion has caused me to attract what was predicted for me. I usually forget so much of what is said. I never use it as a guide for my ways and my days. I don t want to know what's going to happen, not really. I'm only curious. We all have a story; I don t want to know how my ends and all that transpires between then and now. I only wanted to escape the fear and doubt in limbo when I don t know all of the answers. I know I am only responsible for the effort, not the outcome. I can detach and let it go because it shall be what it shall be. I don't know what tomorrow will bring...I Honor My Truth. Debra Hadraba

Welcome to Honor Your Truth The Is It True? Series Episode Seventy-Nine Speak of the Devil and he will appear I bring food to the table .all kinds of food. They run me back and forth for various condiments and what not. I run all over for them because that s my job and I do it well. I do it all with a smile in my quirky sort of way. I am known for my socks. I wear wild and crazy socks. Some people even call me socks . Most people have a sock drawer that may include other hosiery and stuff, but I have several drawers for socks alone. We are supposed to wear khaki pants, shorts or skirts. Khaki is neutral to me like jeans .jeans go with anything. I like to think that the uniform doesn t even factor in, like jeans don t factor in to the mix. I give myself license to wear any colors and patterns of sock wear whether they technically go with the uniform or not. However, for the past week I have been wearing my khaki skirt with a black shirt and plain black tights like I m in some kind of mourning. I am annoyed. When I am annoyed, it is bad. I haven t been annoyed with my job for many years now. I enjoy the restaurant business for the most part. I like being busy, whipping around, making people laugh, horsing around in the kitchen and so on. It s a living and I m lucky. I can t complain. That being said, I have never felt inspired to open my own place like many people have suggested. As much as I like it, my soul is not alive. I can do this job in my sleep. My parents always told me I would never make money doing what I loved which was music and art, so I should keep it as a side thing . I believed them maybe because it was easier. Doing what I loved meant taking risks because I really cared. I was afraid I would never be good enough, yet I always intended to pursue my passions in the time I had off. Slowly my creativity dwindled to the occasional card or gift I d make for someone and I never played music anymore. I was just too fried all the time. I d come home peopled-out. I never felt the energy for anything else. In the industry, this is commonly known as restaurant burn-out. The last stop for us is banquets. This is where all the burn-outs end up. You don t have to talk to anybody. You set it all up, deliver the food, clean it all up, and go home. I went through a phase in the mid nineties when I was totally burnt out and pissed off at everyone. If someone asked me for water, I d look at them cross-eyed. I was Miss Crabby Pants. I felt put out by people even though it was my job to serve them like I was being punished by having to do that job. I was feeling sorry for myself. I had become such a victim. Trust me it s not something I am proud of. One day I was talking to a woman that described her experience with a server who had waited on her. She talked about how the server had turned her whole day around when she was feeling sad and lonely. I felt really bad for having been such a surly server. It was a moment of clarity. We never know who we might be helping at the time, brightening their day when they really need brightening. It also dawned on me that I could quit. No one was forcing me to work there. It was my choice. I took responsibility for my life and my choices. I changed my attitude almost overnight through this awakening. As obvious as it was, it was a revelation to me. I realized I was in control of my own life. I re-decided to do this work and here I am 10+ years later, still waiting tables. People often ask me how I do it. I am always cheery. I feel happy. I like working, being of service. I do a good job. That is until a few weeks ago. Lately, I have been very short fused and angry annoyed. I don t want to wait on people. I do my best to cover up my bad attitude because I am the manager, but I feel like a fake, a fraud. I don t want to be there and I hope no one can tell. I am thinking about all the things I d rather be doing and I m not in the present. This is not good. I m being a whiner to my close friends. That doesn t feel good either. I notice how it snowballs into more negativity, so I m doing a mind-set check. I m changing to an attitude of gratitude. I m reminding myself that I like my job. I like serving people and bringing sunshine to their day if I can. I make enough money at a time when many people do not make enough. It s all good. This is not forever if I don t want it to be. I am not in job jail as some call it. There is really no such thing. It is what I make it. My cup is half full. I Honor My Truth! Debra Hadraba

Welcome to Honor Your Truth The Is It True? Series Episode Eighty Let bygones be bygones We took the Winnebago on a vacation to Potawatomi State Park in WI. It was a beautiful day that day. We stopped to get some lunch, but no one could sit still long enough to eat it because there were so many bees. They seemed to come out of no where and swarm us at the picnic table. I m not a fan of biting things ever since a wasp stung me nine times in the eye on the playground. It was sunny and warm so we decided to hang out for a while by the water skippin rocks. Usually, I m not much of a rock skipper but for some reason that day I was so inclined. I was laughing and having fun right up until the moment I hit the duck. The little duck family was paddling by. I didn t see them. They weren t really that close to us, but me being the wildly spastic thrower that I am, hit the little duck right in the head with a rock. It shook and kinda tipped over and sorta swam away. I think? I d like to believe that it did. I think of that duck from time to time. I have to tell myself its ok somewhere in Sturgeon Bay .a grandma duck by now or maybe even in duck heaven. It is somewhere doin fine. I realize it was a total freak accident. I couldn t do it again if I tried. However, it still really bothers me. Not unlike another more recent incident with a squirrel. When I got my drivers license, I graduated from rock to car. I hit a squirrel. It just so happens that my parents were right behind me in their car and witnessed the whole thing. We were all going over to a party somewhere. I wasn t fully paying attention, probably contemplating some other thing I did or said that I felt was stupid. The chatter in my head plagued even more back then which is hard to believe. When we got to the party, my Dad said, Did you know you hit a squirrel? I said that I knew. He seemed very disappointed in me. I couldn t let go of it for a long time. I still think of that squirrel every now and then too. I would much rather be the one that is hurt, than to have hurt someone else. The pain I feel when I hurt someone else is far greater than any pain I have suffered from something said or done to me. I have a difficult time forgiving myself. I think a lot of people have the same struggle. We are often less understanding when it comes to ourselves. I ve heard it said, Forgive and forget , but we forget less easily. I will forget for someone else, but not for me. When I apologize and even amend my behavior, I can forgive myself over time. I have a heckuva time forgetting. I talk my way through it when I remember, but I still remember. I will think of it and cringe or feel sad. I believe we need to forgive ourselves. We are human. It is our nature to want to love people. We are good people. We hang on a little to the things we would have liked to do differently sometimes a little too long. I wish I could have a bunch of do overs , but I can t. Now that I see how my life all fits, I regret the past less and less. I am grateful for it. My past blunders have taught me some of my greatest lessons their value unparalleled. Focusing on the now and how I can apply what I ve learned is where to put my energy. What can I do differently today? Rather than waste a lot of time and energy on yesterday or tomorrow. I m at my best if I am following my heart. I m at my best if I Honor My Truth! Debra Hadraba

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Need a video? Hire me! http://www.matthewbelinkie.com TRANSCRIPT: Shame on you. This could be the greatest night of our lives, but you're going to let it be the worst. And I guarantee a week won't go by in your life you won't regret walking out, letting them get the best of you. Well, I'm not going home. We've come too far! And I'm going to stay right here and fight for this lost cause. A day may come when the courage of men fails... but it is not THIS day. The line must be drawn HERE. This far, no further! I'm not saying it's going to be easy. You're going to work harder than you ever worked before. But that's fine, we'll just get tougher with it! If a person grits his teeth and shows real determination, failure is not an option. That's how winning is done! Believe me when I say we can break this army here, and win just one for the Gipper. But I say to you what every warrior has known since the beginning of time: you've got to get mad. I mean plum mad dog mean. If you would be free men, then you must fight to fulfill that promise! Let us cut out their living guts one inch at a time, and they will know what we can do! Let no man forget how menacing we are. We are lions! You're like a big bear, man! This is YOUR time! Seize the day, never surrender, victory or death... that's the Chicago Way! Who's with me? Clap! Clap! Don't let Tink die! Clap! Alright! Let's fly! And gentlemen in England now abed shall know my name is the Lord when I tell our enemies that they may take our lives, but they'll never take our Independence Day!

The new pocket-sized fun snack for the modern Scotsman. HAGGUMS! EAT EM! YE .... Starring: James Kirkland, Jen Burton, Ash Lim, Neil Towsey, Jon DeWalt & Brendan Hunt (Voice-Over) Written by: Michael Orton-Toliver & James Kirkland Directed/Edited by: Jon DeWalt

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