My Favorite Mother-In-Law

“My Favorite Mother-In-Law” is a memoir by Mark Niemann-Ross, exploring his insider experience as the youngest resident of Evergreen Meadows Senior Community. The book reflects on the unique bond between Mark and Greta, his favorite Mother-In-Law. In the book, he shares humorous anecdotes and touching memories that showcase the respect and affection he feels for Greta and her fellow residents.

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Audiobook: To come 

Excerpt from My Favorite Mother-In-Law

I’ve been twenty-five for about four decades. This month, I awoke to find I’m suddenly sixty-five. I use adverbs sparingly, but in this case, “suddenly” fits.

Sixty-five is harder than twenty-five.

When I was twenty-five, I could run a five-minute mile. I flipped a canoe on my shoulders, then down, then up again sixteen times in thirty seconds. I could carry a 250 pound load up a sand dune.

Now my back hurts when I get out of bed in the morning.

When I was twenty-five, I played bass guitar in a rock-and-roll band. I learned music theory. I picked up the banjo and taught myself to sight-read.

Now I can’t remember where I put my keys, much less the key signature of the music I’m practicing.

To document my sudden aging, the United States government sends me paperwork about Social Security and Medicare. I laugh about how those are for old people. I stop laughing when I realize I’m the old people they are talking about.

I have grandchildren. My hair and beard are white. My skin is thinner, my knees complain when I stand up. Industry head-hunters have stopped calling me with job offers.

When I was twenty-five, I strove to be respected by my peers. I worked hard for a fine patina of wisdom. Now I find that patina is easy to come by; it’s called “liver spots.”

This is the first time I’ve gotten old and I am totally unprepared. I was hoping the literature accompanying the Medicare paperwork would offer a seminar (hopefully in some exotic location) about aging gracefully. There are such seminars, but they are taught by forty-year-old celebrities and are mainly concerned about choosing make-up and fashion. Nothing about how an old white guy is supposed to proceed with confidence. (Of course, old white men have never lacked for an undeserved sense of confidence.)

I realize I should observe someone older than myself. If I paid careful attention, I could see their triumphs and their failures. I could take careful notes and optimize my own experience. I need a mentor to show me how to get older.

Fortunate me: I have a perfect mentor and I’m related to her.

My favorite Mother-In-Law!

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