Donald Hammen, 80, and his lifelong south Minneapolis neighbor, Julie McMahon, understand each other. Every morning she checks to see if he has raised the blinds on the dining room window. If not, he’ll call Hammen or break into his house to see what’s going on.

Navigating Aging focuses on medical issues and advice associated with aging and end-of-life care, helping America’s 45 million seniors and their families navigate the health care system.

If McMahon finds Hammen in bad shape, he plans to contact his sister-in-law, who lives in a Des Moines suburb. That’s your closest relative. Hammen never married or had children, and his younger brother died in 2022.

Although Hammen lives alone, a network of relationships binds him to his city and his community: neighbors, friends, former coworkers, fellow volunteers for a senior advocacy group, and members of a lonely seniors group. McMahon is an emergency contact, as is a former co-worker. When Hammen was hit by a car in February 2019, another neighbor did his laundry. A friend came over to keep him company. Other people walked with Hammen while he recovered.

Those connections are certainly sustainable. However, Hammen has no idea who could take care of him in case he can no longer take care of himself.

“I will cross that bridge when the time comes,” he told me.

These are critical questions for older adults living alone: ​​Who will be there for them, for matters big and small? Who will help them navigate an increasingly complex healthcare system and advocate for their rights? Who will take out the trash if it is too difficult to transport? Who will shovel the snow if a winter storm hits?

American society is based on the assumption that families take care of themselves. But 15 million Americans age 50 and older had no close family members (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.

Beyond that, millions of seniors who live alone are not geographically close to their adult children or other family members. Or they have difficult and tense relationships that prevent them from asking for support.

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

And often they simply run out of them, leaving them vulnerable to isolation, depression and deteriorating health.

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

“We are just beginning to better understand that people have multiple connections outside their families that are essential to their well-being,” said Sarah Patterson, a demographer and sociologist at the University’s Institute for Social Research. of Michigan.

The conclusion of a remarkable published study by researchers at Emory University, Johns Hopkins University, and the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai was this: Many older people adapt to living alone by building local social networks of friends, neighbors, nieces and nephews, and siblings (if available). to support their independence.

Still, finding reliable local connections isn’t always easy. And non-family helpers may not be willing or able to provide intense and consistent hands-on care if needed.

When AARP surveyed people he calls “lone agents” In 2022, only 25% said they could count on someone to help them cook, clean, shop or do other household tasks if necessary. Only 38% said they knew someone who could help manage continuing care needs. (AARP defined people living alone as people age 50 or older who are not married, have no living children, and live alone.)

Linda Camp, 73, a former city manager in St. Paul, Minnesota, who never married or had children, has written several reports for the St. Paul Citizens League on aging alone. However, she was still surprised by how much help she needed this summer when she underwent cataract surgery on both eyes.

A former co-worker accompanied Camp to the surgery center twice and waited there until the procedures were completed. A relatively new friend took her to a follow-up appointment. An 81-year-old downstairs neighbor agreed to come up if Camp needed anything. Other friends and neighbors also collaborated.

Camp was lucky: He has a sizable network of former coworkers, neighbors and friends. “What I tell people when I talk about solos is that all kinds of connections have value,” he said.

Michelle Wallace, 75, a former technology project manager, lives alone in a single-family home in Broomfield, Colorado. You have worked hard to build 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. “The couple is not for me,” he told me when we spoke for the first time. “I need my space and privacy too much.”

Instead, she cultivated relationships with several people she met through local groups for lonely seniors. Many have become his close friends. Two of them, both in their 70s, are “like sisters,” Wallace said. Another, who lives a few blocks away, agreed to become a “we will help each other when necessary” partner.

“At age 70, people who live alone look for support systems. And the scariest thing is not having friends around,” Wallace told me. “What’s really important is the local network.”

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

They have, but not as Stern predicted.

The person who helps him the most is his third wife, Jobie Stern, 75 years old. The couple went through a bitter divorce in 1985, but now she goes to all his doctor’s appointments, takes him shopping and takes 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 do you 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 glad to know you’re doing your best.”

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

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

Gardner’s other main local connections are Joy Loverde, 72, an author of books on elder care, and her 79-year-old husband, who lives on the 28th floor. Gardner calls Loverde her friend who “tells things.” as they are”: the one who helped him decide it was time to stop driving, the one who convinced him to install a shower with a bench in his bathroom, the one who plays Scrabble with him every week and offers him practical advice every time he has a problem.

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

There is also the family: four children, all living in Los Angeles, eight grandchildren, most in Los Angeles, and nine great-grandchildren. Gardner sees most of this extended clan about once a year and speaks with them often, but cannot depend on them for his daily needs.

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

As I explore the lives of older adults living alone in the coming months, I’m eager to hear from people who find themselves in this situation. If you want to share your stories, 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 main operating programs of KFF — the independent source for health policy research, polling and journalism. This story also continued Washington Post. could be republished for free.