The Silent Majority

With increasing frequency, women are finding themselves the caregivers to aging parents. and spouses with early-onset chronic diseases, and often widowed young and left to do it all. The economic reality is that the costs of care were already outpacing inflation by about 50% and have risen sharply since 2020. There simply isn't enough money or people to meet the needs, and the gap is only getting wider.

My work brings stories to my attention every day.

• Mary, 64, and her siblings placed Mom in a nice care facility with the expectation that she only had a few months left to live. That was four years ago. Mom's savings are long gone, and the $124,000 annual tab is placing a strain on everyone. Lower cost care and housing for Mom isn't a topic any of the adult children want to raise up. And so they wait, wondering how this unplanned spending will impact their own retirement future.
• Eileen approached me a few years ago to design an addition to their home so that her mother could live out her years with her and her husband Rick. The addition was thoughtfully designed to serve as a studio after Eileen's mom passed. Mom passed last year, but what Eileen didn't plan for was Rick dropping dead from a heart attack just six weeks later. Visions of the lovely home in the country with her studio have been replaced by isolation, loneliness, and paralyzing thoughts of her new future.
• Lucile and Jean have been together for well over a decade, coming together after each raising children with former spouses. Life is great, and their love is strong, but they find themselves with children and now grandchildren on opposite coasts. Bouncing between coasts isn't a long-term solution, and understandably, both would like them to settle on one coast or the other. They're in limbo, unconsciously waiting for a life event to make the decision for them.
• Jan is a giving and vibrant 72-year-old by any measure. She's recently buried her husband of forty years after a long illness that required him to be in assisted living. She found herself caught between ensuring her late husband had quality care, and decades of active life still ahead for her. The cost of carrying two homes, one them costing over $100,00 per year, has left her wondering what happened to all the money they had at the start of retirement. Their financial advisor had led them to believe they were in good shape and remained silent as the investments quietly disappeared. Her focus was on getting to see her husband every day and helping out any way she could.

The stories go on and on, but the theme remains: it's usually the women who are left to clean up after the dust settles, discovering that the cupboards are bare, the options few, and they've sacrificed their health to be handed the leftovers. It's hard to make lemonade when even the lemons are gone.

It's tempting to think this is just how life plays out, and some just get the short straw. Our retirement years aren't going to be the relatively easy ride many of our parents and grandparents enjoyed. There will be a fraction of people to support us, and the cost of care and care-based housing will be out of reach for all but a few. Many won't realize that until that day arrives -- almost no one takes a close look at later-life costs until they come knocking on our door.

Waiting to react. It's a habit acquired over decades of practice. "We'll figure it out. We always do." The rules change in later years. The price to play skyrockets, and all the best options dropped silently off the table long ago, and the future often looks nothing like we imagined.

• Pat buried her husband of almost sixty years last month. Jim was ninety-one, and a former student of mine. When the pandemic came, and their gym closed, they ordered a treadmill that Pat used every day. They'd kindly allowed me to tear apart their bathrooms in their cozy home years earlier, and I was always impressed by their questions on aging well that would arrive in my inbox. Occasionally, I'd stop by for coffee, and we'd get caught up on life at the kitchen table.

Pat and Jan (above) have a lot in common, with one key distinction: Pat has been asking questions for decades on things Jan had never even considered. The more she asked, the better her questions and the more empowered she became.

Life's questions take time to process and weigh the pros and cons. Change can be hard, but once we fall behind, paralysis seems almost inevitable, and we find ourselves sitting alone in silence far too often.

I'm lucky. Adult students like Jim and Pat show up freely in class at all ages to explore the possibilities of life, in the full knowledge that life is going to throw them some curve balls and sometimes knock them to their knees. It's not simply about getting back up; it's about knowing why you're getting back up, what you have around you, and already knowing your next steps.

The opportunities to live healthy and happy longer have never been greater, but there's a whole lot more to it than filling the plate with greens, getting out for a daily walk, and reading health magazines.

Healthspan and housing aren't the result of lucky breaks -- they're surprisingly interdependent. Nothing will impact your wealth more than healthspan and housing, and chances are, your financial advisor has offered no resources to help you succeed in these two key areas.

Adults learn best from each other. I can bury you in science and housing options, but the shared experience is where the magic happens. I can't squeeze you all into my classroom, so I've designed a 6-part miniseries specifically to prepare women to manage the dynamic between wealth, health, and housing.

The series will be available this fall and includes:

• Three 60-minute lectures that you can watch at your convenience
• Three 45-minute group discussions to process the topics together
• Workbook to help play the long game

If this is of interest, drop a note, along with any questions and suggestions in the comments