Unmarried Together

Demographers have been buzzing about one shocker in newly analyzed census data: The number of men and women 65 and older who choose to live together without getting married had nearly doubled in a decade.

In fact, some 9.7 million unmarried partners were cohabiting in 2000. The census counted 266,600 couples in the 65-plus group. Many experts think the numbers are much higher—some couples are reluctant to report their living arrangements—and expect them to climb as baby boomers age and Americans in general stay healthy and live longer.

Two people who weren’t surprised by the statistics are Nancy Myers, 65, and Joe Venable, 64, of Aurora, Colo. They met at a dance four years ago, and in 2003, after a full year of debate, they decided to set up housekeeping together.

"If someone had told me 10 years ago I’d feel this way, I would have said they were crazy," says Myers, a widow who was married for 39 years.

But wedding bells are not in Nancy and Joe’s future. What earlier generations used to call living in sin has become the most reasonable—and economically feasible—way for many older people to have companionship, especially after a divorce or the death of a spouse.

What stops many of them from tying the knot is the prospect of financial loss, a worry that trumps any desire for the religious or social blessings of marriage. Remarriage may mean giving up a former spouse’s pension, Social Security and medical insurance.

Myers, who has hepatitis C and is a breast cancer survivor, would lose the health benefits of her late husband, an Air Force officer, that help pay her substantial medical costs. "What would I do without his health benefits?" she says. "I’d be destitute."

Family Squabbles

Some older couples stay single in order to avoid the objections of their grown children who fear they will be displaced in their parent’s affection—and in their will—or that a new spouse will take advantage of their parent financially or emotionally.

Gerontologist Paul Takayanagi of Charlottesville, Va., mentions one of his favorite couples, Rose and Charlie, bridge-playing octogenarians who got together after their spouses died. They dated for two years, then decided to shack up despite the disapproval of their children, who thought Rose and Charlie were too old to be dating.

The children warmed up a bit when the couple signed a cohabitation agreement separating their assets and making clear who inherited what. But one of Rose’s daughters, who is in her 60s, still won’t speak to her.

For some cohabitants, traumatic marriages and divorces have made them vow never to wed again. Bob Cummings, a 66-year-old retired professor in Yorktown, Va., found that even a prenuptial agreement, prepared before his second marriage, didn’t save him from costly legal and financial hassles when the marriage broke up.

Cummings’ approach to relationships now is ultra-cautious. He’s living with a divorcee in her late 50s, but before they moved in together, the couple tested their relationship during a formal 60-day trial period. He stayed at her house six nights a week, and they hashed out a division of labor and finances to the satisfaction of each.

"I want a friend and confidante," Cummings says. "Someone to hike and travel with, someone who shares my values. I’m not against marriage, but it’s not the right choice for me."

Norman J. Hannay, a geriatric care manager in La Jolla, Calif., says most people are not against marriage—it’s remarriage they oppose. "Our society is based on the expectation of one marriage that lasts a lifetime," he says.

But living together isn’t always the best choice. Hannay tried to mediate one family tangle involving an older couple, both of whom were widowed and wealthy. Lawyers had persuaded the two that commingling their finances was unwise. So the pair turned their long-planned wedding into a "commitment" party and set up unmarried housekeeping together.

Several years later, while the woman was still enjoying golf and cocktail parties, her partner suffered mental and physical declines. Her children complained that their mother was spending all her time taking care of an invalid when she should be out partying. His children said their father needed to be cared for. Although the couple is still together, the family bonds have crumbled, with each set of children jealously guarding their parent’s time and assets.

"An administrative decision not to get married ended up having unhappy consequences," Hannay says. He believes that had the couple married and had their financial issues been settled, their families would have tried harder to get along together.

We’ll Take Romance

While many cohabitation decisions seem based on practicalities, romance can be a big part of the equation. When he worked at a senior center, gerontologist Takayanagi often called it "Senior Center 90210," a reference to the steamy prime-time TV show Beverly Hills, 90210.

"The human drama is the same whether you’re 18 or 88," he says. "Older people are sexual, too."

Not that long ago, he says, an older woman wouldn’t consider romance, let alone sex and cohabiting, if her husband had died. If she did, it was in secret. (Society accorded men much more latitude.)

Takayanagi remembers a widow he calls Stella, whose grown daughter thought Stella’s relationship with a man betrayed her father’s memory. Stella wasn’t buying it. Her daughter had been married three times. Why shouldn’t she have a relationship, too?

But such inhibitions are fading, thanks to the pre-boomer generation, which began easing taboos against divorce and midlife dating in the 1960s, and to their children, who routinely live together while unmarried.

Indeed, some of the older couples now cohabiting are the ones who criticized their kids a few years ago for doing the same thing. "I didn’t want my kids living together," Bob Cummings says. "If they came to my house they slept in separate bedrooms."

The rules don’t apply to him and his partner, he says, because they are more mature and make better decisions, while "young people are running on emotions." His son wants him to be happy, Cummings says, but draws the line on one point: "He doesn’t want his kids introduced to a lot of different women."

Nancy Myers also was concerned about the effect of her relationship with Joe Venable on her 10 grandchildren. "I worried about what kind of example I was setting," she says. "But they don’t seem to notice. They call my guy ‘cool Joe.’ "

A larger struggle for Myers was over the Catholic faith she shares with her partner, which teaches that cohabitation is a sin. The two are active in their church, attend Mass every Sunday but don’t take Communion. "Joe and I ask for God’s blessing every day," she says. "I believe there are all kinds of sins, and I think God’s very forgiving." Their priest assures them that God wants people to be happy, Myers says.

Myers’ husband, before he died, told her and their children he wanted her to have companionship. Those conversations have made her more comfortable in her new relationship, she says, and she and Joe have the blessing of their children.

Friends once "preachy" about their live-in arrangement have also warmed to the idea. Myers’ most judgmental friend has since developed a relationship of her own. That’s a long way from when Nancy and Joe first got together and friends asked, "When are you two lovebirds going to get married?" Myers’ reply: "When I get pregnant."

Linda Greider is a freelance writer in Washington, D.C.