Donald Hammen, 80, and his longtime south Minneapolis neighbor Julie McMahon have an understanding. Every morning, she checks to see if she has raised the blinds on the living room window. If not, he’ll call Hammen or go into his house to see what’s going on.

If McMahon finds Hammen in a bad way, she plans to contact his sister-in-law, who lives in a Des Moines suburb. This is his closest relative. Hammen never married or had children, and his younger brother died in 2022.

Although Hammen lives alone, a web of relationships connects him to his town and community—neighbors, friends, former co-workers, fellow volunteers with an advocacy group for seniors, and fellow members of a solo activism group. McMahon is an emergency contact, as is a former co-worker. When Hammen was hit by a car in February 2019, another neighbor was doing his laundry. A friend came to keep him company. Other people walked with Hammen as he got back on his feet.

These connections are definitely supportive. However, Hammen has no idea who could care about him if he became unable to care for himself.

“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it,” he told me.

These are fundamental questions for older adults living alone: ​​Who will be there for them, for matters big and small? Who will help them navigate the increasingly complex health care system and advocate on their behalf? Who will take out the trash if it becomes too heavy to carry? Who will shovel the snow if a winter storm comes through?

American society is built on the assumption that families take care of their own. But 15 million Americans 50 and older had no immediate family — spouses, partners or children — in 2015, the latest year for which reliable estimates are available. Most lived alone. By 2060, that number is expected to rise to 21 million.

Additionally, millions of seniors living on their own are not geographically close to adult children or other family members. Or they have difficult, strained relationships that prevent them from asking for support.

These older adults must seek assistance from other quarters when they need it. They often turn to neighbors, friends, church members or community groups – or paid help if they can afford it.

And often they simply go without, leaving them vulnerable to isolation, depression and deteriorating health.

When seniors living alone do not have close family, can non-family helpers be an adequate substitute? This has not been well studied.

“We’re just beginning to do a better job of understanding that people have a multitude of connections outside of their families that are critical to their well-being,” said Sarah Patterson, a demographer and sociologist at the University’s Institute for Social Research. from Michigan.

Appreciation from a noteworthy published study by researchers at Emory University, Johns Hopkins University, and the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai was this: Many seniors adjust to living alone by weaving together local social networks of friends, neighbors, nieces and nephews, and siblings (if available). to support their independence.

However, finding reliable local connections is not always easy. And helpers outside the family may not be willing or able to provide consistent and intensive hands-on care if it becomes necessary.

When AARP interviewed people he calls “solo elders” in 2022, only 25% said they could rely on someone to help them cook, clean, shop or perform other household tasks if needed. Only 38% said they knew someone who could help manage ongoing care needs. (AARP defined solo travelers as people over 50 who are not married, have no living children, and live alone.)

Linda Camp, 73, former administrator of the city of St. Paul, Minnesota, who never married and had no children, a wrote several reports for the League of Citizens of St. Paul on aging alone. However, she was still surprised by how much help she needed this summer when she had cataract surgery on both eyes.

A former colleague accompanied Camp to the surgery center twice and waited there until the procedures were finished. A relatively new friend took her on a follow-up date. An 81-year-old downstairs neighbor agreed to come over if Camp needed anything. Other friends and neighbors also intervened.

The camp was lucky – it has a considerable network of former co-workers, neighbors and friends. “What I tell people when I talk about solos is that all kinds of connections have value,” she said.

Michelle Wallace, 75, a former technology project manager, lives alone in a single-family home in Broomfield, Colorado. She worked hard to assemble a local support network. Wallace has been divorced for nearly three decades and has no children. Although he has two sisters and a brother, they live far away.

Wallace describes herself as happily single. “Coupling is not for me,” she told me when we first spoke. “I need my space and my privacy too much.”

Instead, he cultivated relationships with several people he met through local singles groups. Many became her close friends. Two of them, both in their 70s, are “like sisters,” Wallace said. Another, who lives just a few blocks away, agreed to become a partner “we’ll help each other when needed.”

“In the 70s, singles are looking for support systems. And the scariest thing is not having friends around,” Wallace told me. “The local network is really important.”

Gardner Stern, 96, who lives alone on the 24th floor of the Carl Sandburg Village condominium complex north of downtown Chicago, was much less deliberate. She never planned for her care needs in old age. He just figured things would work out.

They did, but not in the way Stern predicted.

The person who helps him the most is his third wife, Jobie Stern, 75. The couple went through an acrimonious divorce in 1985, but now she goes to all his doctor’s appointments, takes him shopping, drives him to physical therapy twice a week. and stops every afternoon to chat for about an hour.

She is also Gardner’s neighbor – she lives 10 floors above him in the same building.

Why does she do it? “I guess because I moved into the building and he’s really old and he’s a really good guy and we have a kid together,” she told me. “I’m happy to know he’s doing as well as he can.”

Over many years, she said, she and Gardner put their differences aside.

“I never would have expected that from Jobie,” Gardner told me. “I believe time heals all wounds.”

Gardner’s other main local connections are Joy Loverde, 72, author of books on elder care, and her 79-year-old husband, who live on the 28th floor. Gardner calls Loverde his friend, “he says the way it is’ – the one who helped him decide it was time to stop driving, the one who convinced him to make a shower stall with a bench installed in the bathroom, the one who plays Scrabble with him every week and offers practical advice whenever he has a problem.

“I think I’d be in an assisted living facility without her,” Gardner said.

There’s also family: four children, all based in Los Angeles, eight grandchildren, most of them in LA, and nine great-grandchildren. Gardner sees most of this extended clan about once a year and speaks to them often, but he cannot depend on them for his day-to-day needs.

For that, Loverde and Jobie are an elevator ride away. “I have these wonderful people monitoring my existence and a big screen TV and a freezer full of good frozen meals,” Gardner said. “It’s all I need.”

Reporter Judith Graham explores the lives of older adults living alone over the next few months. She is eager to hear from people who are in this situation. If you would like to share your stories, please send them to [email protected].

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism on health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF – an independent source of health policy research, polling and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

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