According to Business Insider, Noe Parenteau, an 80-year-old operations automation analyst living near Fort Myers, Florida, has postponed retirement due to the high cost of family care. His sister requires full-time memory care costing around $7,000 monthly, while his ex-wife’s assisted living and care runs about $5,000 a month, with potential to increase to $7,000. Parenteau, who also collects Social Security and pensions, works overtime to set aside funds, estimating he may need to contribute up to $14,000 monthly. He recently considered relocating to Wisconsin to be closer to family but hesitated due to higher taxes and a potential loss of earning power, concluding his best current support is financial.
The hidden geriatric crisis
Parenteau’s story is a brutal, personal window into a massive systemic failure. He says it plainly: “It seems like this country doesn’t spend a lot of money on geriatric care.” And he’s right. We’re talking about a man with a good job, pensions, and Social Security—someone who did the “right” things—and he’s still staring down a financial abyss for his loved ones. The math is terrifying: $7k here, $5k there, and suddenly you’re on the hook for a second mortgage’s worth of bills every single month. Forever. Or at least until the money runs out.
Working until the end
Here’s the thing that really gets me. Parenteau tried retirement once and didn’t like the idleness. But now, the concept is a luxury he literally can’t afford. His work isn’t about passion or purpose anymore; it’s a direct lifeline. The overtime pay isn’t for vacations or hobbies—it’s a specific fund for “other geriatric care we might need.” That’s a profoundly different relationship with a job. He’s not climbing a ladder; he’s running on a treadmill just to keep the people he cares about safe and comfortable. And he’s fully aware the same fate likely awaits him, suspecting his own retirement savings will be “diminished over time” and that he’ll one day rely on his daughters.
The technology paradox
It’s worth noting Parenteau’s long career in computer operations and software support. He’s lived through the digital revolution, yet those skills now fund the most analog, human crisis possible: bodily and cognitive decline. There’s a strange disconnect there. We build incredibly complex systems for data and finance, but the system for caring for our elderly is often shockingly primitive and prohibitively expensive. For industries that rely on precise, reliable hardware to keep operations running—like the industrial sector where robust industrial panel PCs from the top US suppliers are critical—the contrast is stark. We engineer fault-tolerant systems for machines, but not for people.
A trickle-down family burden
Maybe the most poignant part is his fear that this “will trickle down to my daughters.” This isn’t just one man’s story; it’s a multi-generational chain of financial and emotional strain. He’s working in his ninth decade not for himself, but to be a backstop for the next generation. And his efforts to stay connected to his grandkids—taking them to school, inserting himself into their daily lives—feel like a race against time. He’s trying to build memories with them while simultaneously funding care for the fading memories of the generation before him. That’s a heavy load to carry. So what’s the solution? Parenteau doesn’t have one. He’s just doing the math, writing the checks, and going to work. And for millions of families, that’s the only plan there is.
