I grew up in the Midwest near Chicago in a blended family.
Each of my parents had been married before to spouses that abandoned them. In my father’s situation, his first wife abandoned their marriage. My mother’s first husband abandoned their marriage and their son. My half-brother was ten years older than me. I was the middle kid and my sis the youngest.
The Empty Lot
The neighborhood was one modest house next to another of hard-working middle-class families. When you are a kid, you don’t realize how important that block might be to your future success or failure.
The best thing was the empty lot next door that my parents owned. I learned how to be one of the best baseball players because of my guy friends that came over to play ball.
The competition was fierce. Nothing was getting past me or going over my head. Well, maybe a few. So while I was sweat beading up around my neck, my sister was busy sprucing up her Barbie dolls. Even though my older brother was the catcher on a baseball team, I have no memory of him playing catch with me.
Dad bought prizes for all the players for our annual World Series games. It was a big deal. Win or lose, every kid went home with a gift and felt good about having a fun time.
Accordion Lessons
My second favorite memory was The Band. Both parents loved the Lawrence Welk Show, and my sister and I often watched it with them. Because of ‘Ah-Wunnerful, Ah-Wunnerful” every week, I believe that show prompted the accordion lessons.
My father’s parents immigrated from Poland. Accordions are the foundation for all polkas. In my experience, Polish weddings are the most fun of all. Once you have danced the polka, you are hooked for life! Although I wanted to play the drums, I was proud to take accordion lessons to please my dad.
After my lesson on Saturdays, Dad, Sis, and I stopped at the best Italian deli in Melrose Park for ham and hard rolls. Then we headed to check on Gramma Marek and have lunch with her. I never met Grampa Marek because he had already passed.
English was not my gramma’s first language. My father spoke fluent Polish, so I wish he had taught us. Deb and I could not understand most of their conversations. But we learned that a smile and a hug interpret the same in any language. We looked forward to spending time with her, especially because she was the only grandmother nearby.
This is a photo of one of our band concerts in my backyard. The Band was a unique blend of tuba, drums, ukelele, flutophone, and accordion. Some of our most requested songs were My Wild Irish Rose, Jolly Party Polka, For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow, and Jingle Bells. We charged a quarter to get in that included a bag of popcorn. My organizational skills and leadership abilities were starting to surface. Of course, making cash and doing something fun was also a vital motivational factor.
Other Fun Memories
Other memories during that simpler time included the dime store; playing marbles with cat eyes being the big prize if you won; catching lightning bugs and letting them go; hitting crab apples that dropped from our tree with badminton racquets at our human targets; flying kites; hopscotch; the Mickey Mouse Club; walking to Cock Robin in the freezing cold for a hot bag of fries to eat on the way back home; running as fast as I could to catch the ice cream truck to buy a Push-Up or Good Humor Bar; hand-held transistor radios playing the best music ever; Old Maid Card Game; go-carting and the Tilt-A-Whirl, falling because my roller-skates came off; candy bars five for a quarter; and feeling so proud when I walked two blocks with the money I earned and handed it to the teller to record the amount in my bank book. I was a devoted Chicago White Sox fan.
I have learned that we still feel the same inside, no matter our age or how we look. The young and the aging have things to teach one another.
Even though my mom named me after Marilyn Monroe and my sister after Debbie Reynolds. I think she realized my sister had a better shot at being the Beauty in the family, and that left me being the Braun. She nicknamed me Miss Uppington, in other words, uppity for putting on airs of superiority. I suspect she thought I was different because my independent spirit kept struggling to be free of her expectations.
For daughters, your mother is the significant role model; for sons, their father. Little did I know how the dynamics of my birth family and my parent’s secrets would ignite the power of patterns in all our lives.
This is the beginning of sharing my secrets, survival solutions, trusting my gut, and the promises I made to myself. Every story and article is intended to help others live a fun, drama-free, and purposeful life.
Tough Cookie Tip: One thing I know for sure in this life is: If you do not stay true to yourself, who you follow is who you become.
Copyright © 2022-2025 Marilyn K Fuller. All Rights Reserved.
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Wayne was a natural baseball player- in his genes -since his uncle was Orval Grove- a pitcher for the White Sox. I’m sure he always felt that disconnect with his roots his whole life. I didn’t know he had attended Proviso West HS. like us. I always looked upon him as “Joe College” . He always had that kind of presence. My mom sure loved him, and loved taking care of him.