It's Time to Talk About LGBTQ+ Elder Care

During the COVID-19 pandemic, while droves of homebound Americans were learning to bake sourdough (I included), one man was learning about genealogy. Armed with an ancestry.com account, Andy Ingall dove in and quickly discovered an unfamiliar branch on his otherwise unremarkable family tree: his father’s cousin, Leon. “I was amazed by what I could find: gender and eye color, ship manifests...but what blew my mind was Leon’s 2001 Vermont Civil Marriage Certificate. It was issued to Leon and a man named Warren—a name I’d never heard.”

Andy traced both men's childhoods into adulthood through archival records. Warren was of German heritage. He was born in Kingston, New York, and moved to the Bronx as a child. Leon was a Jew who fled Russian and German persecution, emigrating to the United States in 1940. Both men served in the US military. According to a surviving friend, Warren’s service included a period in which he was an operative for the O.S.S., the precursor to the C.I.A. While records indicated faithful service as a soldier, Leon was dishonorably discharged. The reason: homosexuality.

Leon and Warren, Vermont circa 1990.

Source: Karl Decker/With Permission/Andy Ingall

Despite gaps in Ingall's research, several key moments helped synthesize the couple’s story. Namely, Warren and Leon met during World War II. After the war, Leon became a fashion designer, and Warren a writer and journalist. Together, in 1958, they opened and operated Warlé. Named in homage to their partnership, the boutique on Manhattan’s Upper East Side specialized in antiques, art framing, restoration, and interiors. The couple retired to Vermont in 1980.

However, first-hand accounts confirmed the couple’s final few years were marked with profound grief. After 58 years together, Leon was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, and Warren struggled to care for him. When their doctor and social worker asked about activating Leon’s veteran's benefits, Warren explained why that wasn’t possible. Their caregivers urged them to have a civil union in Vermont, the first state to legalize such relationships and thus provide nursing support and end-of-life care. (Warren, who outlived Leon by five years, also required nursing support.)

Queer caregiver grief is often overlooked or ignored

Two decades since, most within the Queer community continue to age alone. However, in addition to experiencing familial estrangement at a higher rate than heterosexual peers, the majority of elderly LGBTQ+ individuals do not have children to help with their care, putting them at greater risk of social isolation. Worse, in non-queer-affirming elder care facilities, partners and chosen families frequently face discrimination, often failing to be acknowledged by administrators and physicians. This discriminatory practice isn’t just wrong; it's also causative of critical care issues.

Studies find that atop these issues are patients avoiding or delaying necessary treatment and providers disregarding the wishes of partners and chosen families. For Black and Hispanic patients and those living in politically conservative regions, high levels of disrespect and inadequate care toward LGBTQ+ patients and partners are especially problematic.

It’s time to consider our queer elders and their aging experience

While the Warlé boutique has long since closed, Andy Ingall’s self-described “passion project” carries the name forward. “Warlé” is being reimagined in New York City as a performative telling of the life and death story of Warren and Leon. Through spoken word, music, song, and dance, the 50-minute performance is giving queer caregiver grief a voice. Followed by an audience Q&A, the performance also prompts thoughtful reflection, inviting audience members to research their own family trees for overlooked or intentionally omitted ancestors. To uncover these stories, Ingall suggests investigating hidden narratives, such as the “spinster” aunt or the “lifelong bachelor” uncle—noting that a lack of confirmation of a relative’s sexual orientation or gender identity does not necessarily imply their non-existence within the family lineage.

In this way, research has allowed cousins who never met to help us do what many don’t know how to do— and something Ingall hopes more of us will do: Start this conversation. “It sounds simple, but it can be really scary. Many fear being pushed back into the closet as they age and don’t want that.” Indeed, a recent report published by SAGE confirms that 70% of aging LGBTQ+ people report a fear of having to “re-closet” themselves when seeking housing in managed-care facilities.

Queer caregiver grief and bereavement care weren’t part of my awareness before learning about Warren and Leon. Now, it’s something I think about often. I’m inspired to amplify the conversation and invite you to do the same. Here’s how:

• Ask the LGBTQ+ elders in your life about their healthcare and end-of-life directives.
• Learn about LGBTQ+ aging and caregiving in your community. (A simple phone inquiry is a good place to begin.)
• When considering end-of-life care, educate yourself on the policies of senior-care facilities to ensure that they are inclusive. Hospitals, care centers, and other community locations serving elders are also worth a look.
• Inquire about facilities' LGBTQ+ discrimination and institutional practices to address discrimination, and their process for ensuring cultural sensitivity training for staff.
• Contact local LGBTQ+ organizations for approved hospice care and bereavement support providers.

Caregiving Essential Reads

A Letter for Mom: Making Time Count With Aging Loved Ones

Shining a Spotlight on the Great Caregiving Transfer

Finally, if inclusive, affirming, queer-friendly care doesn’t exist, get creative. That’s what Warren and Leon did, engaging support from “logical” family—friends, neighbors, and professional caregivers—in the absence of biological family.

Queer elder-care advocate Andy Ingall honors his lineage

Source: Andy Ingall/With Permission

A legacy of love

Before Leon died, he and Warren initiated plans for their home, and in doing so, left a loving legacy. Terms included donating the couple’s home and its many acres in exchange for safe healthcare and housing through the end of Warren's life. In addition, upon his death, it was to house an inclusive, LGBTQ+-friendly senior living care center.

Today, it does.

A commemorative plaque and a glass sconce with rainbow lighting memorialize the gift at Valley Village. A plaque honoring Warren and Leon also exists at Grace Cottage, the hospital where they received care. Staff from both institutions and community leaders participate in an Equity Team to ensure that everyone is safe and welcome. Residents and patients receive warm, inclusive, LGBTQ+ -affirming care because of Warren and Leon. Donating their land wasn’t only evidence of their kind and compassionate character, but also an abiding testament of love, not just for one another but for the community of chosen family that showed up for them.

“There was a lot of grief for me learning about Warren and Leon. Coming out in the 1990s wasn’t easy for me," Ingall shared, “I had few queer elders as role models. It’s sad because they were alive during this time and living just a few hours from me, yet I never knew. Learning about their lives, I’m beyond proud to claim them as family. They’ve changed my life in many meaningful ways and I'm grateful.”

I surely can’t say that of my sourdough.