Women and Retirement: Financial Considerations
As women plan for retirement, they must consider several realities that statistically set them apart from men, including the probability of earning less money and living longer. Of course, every person’s situation is unique, but the fact that women generally spend more years in retirement with fewer assets than their male counterparts can create challenges. Here are some factors women should consider when planning for retirement.
Anticipate a long lifespan
In the United States, on average, women outlive men by five years.1 As a result, in 2022 there were twice as many women aged 85 and above compared to men.2 A longer lifespan means more years in retirement and a need for additional sav-
ings.
Overcome the income gap
Women workers generally earn less than their male counterparts, roughly 82 cents or less on average for every dollar a man earns.3 Recent trends show that women are closing this gap by increasing their education level, entering more nontraditional fields and negotiating their salary when changing jobs. However, the data also shows that as women age, the income disparity widens.4 Women also are more likely to have gaps in their work histories due to caregiving responsibilities that have historically been disproportionally handled by women. These work hiatuses may reduce earnings over their work life, impacting Social Security and retirement benefits.
Take charge of your financial well-being
These strategies can help you be proactive and save toward the retirement you deserve.
Make regular contributions to retirement accounts. Automatic monthly payments make it easy to save every month. Max out any employer matches available to you.
Open an IRA. You can fund a traditional IRA with pre-tax contributions, which may help reduce your tax bill by deferring taxes on those dollars until you are in retirement. Or you can make
after-tax contributions to a Roth IRA. Withdrawals from Roth accounts are not taxed, assuming it has been open at least five years and the withdrawals are made after you reach 59½ years of age. Note that there are income limits attached to Roth accounts.
Make catch-up contributions. Annual contribution limits for retirement accounts change when you reach age 50 and beyond. You are allowed to make catch-up contributions to increase your 401(k) and IRA. Check current guidelines at IRS.gov.
Live within your means. This is an obvious one. Overspending creates debt. Interest rates on unpaid balances can grow unmanageable. Get a handle on your expenses and ensure you’re saving more than you spend so you can put excess money away for retirement.
Leverage the power of compounding by investing early and often. Money that is invested can earn interest, which can then earn its own interest. This compound effect leads to optimal growth over time.
Advocate for higher wages. You have the right to be fairly compensated at work. If disparities exist, don’t be afraid to negotiate for the salary you deserve or pursue higher paying work.
Postpone retirement or continue to work part
time. Most experts recommend waiting until full retirement age to start receiving Social Security. Once you reach full retirement age, you can choose to delay your benefits in exchange for a larger monthly check down the road. Or you can continue working and earning while receiving monthly Social Security income.
Make sure you’re taking the appropriate amount of risk in your investment portfolio. A conservative investment strategy may backfire if it causes you to miss out on market gains while you still have a long-time horizon until retirement. That said, you may want to take some risk off the table if you’re planning to retire in the next few years and you want to guard against big market swings. A financial advisor can help you create a plan that addresses your unique financial goals within the timeframe you have to invest.
Duane J Lusson, CFP, ChFC, CLU, MSFS, is a Private Wealth Advisor with Ameriprise Financial Services, Inc. in Ottumwa, Iowa. He specializes in fee-based financial planning and asset management strategies and has been in practice for 30 years. To contact him, call 641-684-4200 or stop by his office at 527 W. Second in Ottumwa, Iowa.
Ameriprise Financial, Inc. and its affiliates do not offer tax or legal advice. Consumers should consult with their tax advisor or attorney regarding their specific situation.
Investment advisory products and services are made available through Ameriprise Financial Services, LLC, a registered investment adviser.
Investment products are not insured by the FDIC, NCUA or any federal agency, are not deposits or obligations of, or guaranteed by any financial institution, and involve investment risks including possible loss of principal and fluctuation in value.
Ameriprise Financial Services, LLC. Member FINRA and SIPC. © 2023 Ameriprise Financial, Inc. All rights reserved. File # 5441502
Spring Chores Are Not All Work
Spring is a time of endless chores. The lawn needs raked and the grass almost needs mowed. The storage shed needs re-arranged and the patio furniture should be brought out and cleaned. By Sunday afternoon, I had done about all the chores I could stand for one weekend.
I was thinking it was about time to take a break and go fishing when my son stopped by. He needed help with one of his last spring chores, getting the boat ready for the season. Sure, I could get away for a bit to help him with the boat. My wife was working in her flower beds and does not really appreciate my help with her horticulture projects. I do not weed out what should be left behind but have been known to leave behind especially attractive specimens of weeds. Last year I carefully cultivated a weed to almost three feet high before my wife convinced me it was not an exotic plant that only bloomed in the fall.
It took approximately five minutes to ready the boat for the summer season. Damon thought we should take it for a test run, just to make sure all was ready when the women and children wanted to go boating. A light breeze was blowing on the almost warm spring afternoon when we cast off on the maiden voyage of the year. We started fishing as soon as we left the dock and started catching fish immediately. Damon was using a large buzz bait, hoping to catch only the big bass, while I used a medium sized Mepp’s, happy to catch anything. He is much more choosey than am I. He caught a couple nice bass and I caught a crappy.
He caught a couple more nice bass, and I caught a bluegill. He was well ahead of me in both numbers and weight when I tied into a bass that sent my line running with the drag screaming. My little Mepp’s had caught the biggest bass of the first fishing trip of the season. Damon is what a person would consider a bit competitive, even in fishing. He fishes for the big ones, using heavy duty line, and a big lure, only a large fish would take. With the heavy tackle, he can set the hook like he is pulling tree stumps off the bottom with no fear of breaking his line or bending his hook. A few casts later, the boat jerked sideways as he violently set the hook on a fish that had been nibbling, but not biting hard enough to be caught. The jerk on his rod launched a small bass out of the water and sent him sailing over our heads. He landed on the opposite side of the boat with a splash, and lay on the surface, temporarily stunned from his quick trip and sudden landing. It was not quite as big of a fish as he thought. It was not much bigger than the lure. After much laughter and ridicule, we got back to some serious fishing. It turned out to be one of those rare days that was almost perfect for fishing. I was outfished almost two to one, and still caught enough that my arms were sore from reeling them in.
It pays to take a break from spring chores once in a while. The fish might be in the mood to be caught, and the wife might appreciate the break from supervising the gardening.
Danicing Skies
I was enjoying a quiet Thursday at home, not much excitement, when my friend George sent me a message: “I’m at a local watering hole, and there’s a fella saying Silver Bay may be a hotbed tonight for the Northern Lights.” My wife had also mentioned the potential for a giant solar storm. I asked George what time. “As soon as it’s dark,” George replied. I said the northern lights don’t usually come until later in the evening. “He doesn’t seem too drunk and seems to be quite confident in what he’s telling me.” I told George I’d watch for them.
After dark, I stepped out on the back deck to see if I could see any of the northern lights. The setting moon was barely a sliver lying on his back. A planet shone brightly above, looking like a shiny coin falling into a wishing well; the moon would catch it. I turned a full circle looking up to the skies but saw no northern lights. So, I went back into the house. “Maybe they’ll come later tonight.”
I rested on the couch but soon drifted off to sleep. When I woke up, I walked through the house to find Melissa. Unable to find her, I finally asked the dog, “Where did mom go?”
Nova Mae sounded a bit perturbed. “She went outside and wouldn’t let me go with her.”
I gave Nova a rub on the head. “You wait in here while I go find her.” Nova propped her front feet in the bay window and looked outside.
I slipped into my heavy snow boots, grabbed an old jacket, and put my bomber hat on my head,
pulling the ear flaps down. Then, I stepped outside, pulling the front door closed behind me. The Edison bulbs in the lamp fixtures cast a soft glow on the porch but don’t project much light into the yard. The moon had disappeared. I called softly into the dark, “Melissa?”
“I’m over here,” Melissa said. I couldn’t see her, so it felt like the dormant lilac bushes had answered me; at least, that was the direction from which the voice was coming.
“They’re just starting,” she said. “Come on out.”
I walked down the steps to the pathways I had cleared in the deep snow in our yard. “Over here,” she said again. I turned toward the voice and followed the trail along the firewood pile. Finally, she raised her cell phone to take a photo; the screen softly lighted her face as she stood at the end of the tarped wood pile. Her silhouette blended into the low branches of the pine trees that encompass our yard.
I laughed softly as I walked toward my wife, “No wonder I couldn’t see you; the wood is stacked
almost as high as you are tall.” But she wasn’t laughing.
“Can you hear me,” She asked. I admitted I could not and raised my ear flaps. “I asked you to turn off the front porch lights.” I returned, turned off the lights, and descended the steps again.
“The moon is gone,” I said. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could see the three stars of Orion’s belt twinkling through the barren branches of the birch tree. I joined Melissa in the yard. I looked upward and saw a few of the northern lights. “They’re not very bright, are they,” I noted.
“They’re just getting started,” Melissa replied. “They’ll get brighter.”
(Just the Other Day cont’d from pg 4)
I kept watching the sky; the northern lights’ phenomena were getting brighter.
Like thin clouds, the greenish-colored gasses began moving slowly at first, then a little faster. All around the horizon, they were getting brighter and denser. Soon, a small section of these green clouds began moving faster in a straight line, like water running in a trough. Finally, the clouds appeared to be charging Orion’s belt in the birch tree. Not long after, the whole sky came to life.
First, they started moving like waves on a small lake. The waves came to shore, but oddly, they didn’t roll back into the water. They just came, then vanished. We moved from the front yard to the dark road.
We could see more northern lights in the road. Looking up at our house, I saw our cat Edgar Allan in the bay window. He was looking outside but not at us. Nova Mae came to the window with Edgar, then left several times.
The northern lights were picking up speed. Now the waves looked large, like the waves on Lake Superior. But again, they did not return to the water nor crash onto the shore. Instead, they rolled in rapidly, then vanished. The lights were getting brighter, and I could see more movement than just that in the sky.
I could see deer moving up and down the street on both far ends of the road. They seemed skittish, as deer always are, but tonight was different. The deer were not moving fast, as if a wolf were after them. Instead, they moved slowly, with caution.
I wonder if the deer could see the northern lights? By now, the lights were moving faster than I’d ever seen northern lights move. Maybe the deer also saw them and were afraid, not knowing what caused these lights or why. I went into the house to get my cell phone.
Inside, Edgar was still in the bay window. His tail was puffed up like a
black cat at Halloween. I wondered if he and Nova could see these lights. The northern lights started moving even faster. I was sure Edgar could see them; they almost looked like lightning flashing in the clouds during a thunderstorm. Unfortunately, Edgar does not like storms.
Although there was no thunder, Edgar jumped from the bay window to hide in his box on top of Nova’s kennel, a safe place. I rubbed his head gently, “It’s okay buddy, it’s just the northern lights””
I turned off all the lights in the house to make it completely dark inside. Before I went back outdoors, Melissa came in the front door. She called out in the dark house, “Marco”
“Polo,” I replied.
“Marco.”
“Polo,” I replied again, coming down the dark hallway from the bedrooms. “Oh, there you are,” I said as I bumped into her in the living room. The house was dark, except for the clock on the range and microwave and a small blue propane flame under a pan I put on the burner. The two of us walked out the back door onto the deck. What we saw was stunning.
The northern lights had slowed down some and were coming from all directions. There was a circle directly over our backyard. All the lights were moving, coming into the circle where they would disappear; they just vanished, like water falling into a drain, but where do they go?
I wondered, were we IN the center? Was the eye of this celestial storm right over our house? I love watching the northern lights as a spectator, but I do not claim to know the science that creates this magical show. “Do you suppose everyone sees this circle from their perspective as if it was over their house.” I asked my wife. She didn’t know.
Could this circle be following the viewer, like the eyes in DaVinci’s famous Mona Lisa? No matter where you’re standing, she appears to be looking at you. Maybe the circle
moves the same. As I watched the skies, pondering this thought, the most incredible thing I’d ever seen happened.
The northern lights slowed, then retreated, making a heavy bank around the horizon. It was as if they were fans sitting in a stadium. Next, a faint white line started building from the north; another developed from the south. Each became brighter white and less translucent as it built toward the circle. Their edges no longer dissipated into the sky; instead, they became very defined, more clearly than the edges of a spot last being cast on a stage. Their color became solid.
The two beams resembled sharp lightsabers from a science fiction movie. They approached as competitors would coming to an arena. But both stopped short of the middle; neither beam dared to enter the circle. Instead, it was like a more powerful being, perhaps a great mediator, owned the circle.
Melissa and I stood in silent awe; neither had ever seen such a thing. We anticipated something was about to happen, but what. Would these forces of light go to war? Would they join their strength for a common cause or reason? The scene became more intense.
Next, more bright white lights started appearing in the center, even brighter than the north and south beams. The new lights continued building until an angel was formed. She was brilliant and beautiful. The angel did not have rounded wings or curves. Instead, her lines were crisp and defined, just like the beams.
The angel settled, glistening perfectly in the middle as if to bring peace to these light swords prepared to battle. Each
beam sent multiple small, individual spears of light shooting into the center. The angel caught each spear, adding them to the feathers in her wings. Soon, she had established peace between these two warriors.
Once peace had been attained, the quiet fans in the stadium (the banks of green lights) began to cheer. Their green lights came back to life with more colors reappearing again. Finally, the red, yellow, blue, and green northern lights rushed from the horizon, dancing toward the players and the angel on the field.
The bright white lights gradually gave way to the colorful waves of celebration, vanishing into the circle.
I looked at the windows of the three-seasons-room. Nova was looking outside but not at us. She, too, was watching the sky. Now I was sure animals could see the northern lights, especially when they are this vivid. Melissa and I agreed that this surreal evening was, by far and away, the best display of northern lights we’d ever seen, and the show was not over yet.
“Oops, I forgot something,” I said with alarm and rushed into the kitchen. I remembered I had something heating up on the stove.
I turned off the burner and stirred the pan on the stove. Then, I rekindled the fire in the woodstove and added more logs. Finally, I poured two mugs of steaming, homemade hot cocoa, garnishing each with a splash of peppermint Schnapps and a marshmallow. “Come on, Nova,” I said, “Let’s go out on the deck with Mom” We sipped our hot cocoa while watching the skies dance. The waves would go faster, then slow down
again. Finally, after a short rest on the horizon, where they seemed to build up more energy, the lights rushed in warp speed toward the circle!
During the show, we saw not one but two shooting stars passing through the northern lights; one satellite meandered slowly across the sky, dodging the faster-moving waves and streaks.
“I’m getting cold” Melissa said. I was, too; we’d been outside for a few hours. Melissa gathered her tripod and camera and went inside. I watched the sky for a few more minutes, carried the mugs, and brought Nova Mae in with me. Then, from the living room, I heard, “Marco.”
“Polo,” I answered. Then I refilled our mugs with the magical chocolate elixir and joined my wife before the warm fire in the woodstove.
We decided to sleep on the futon in the threeseasons room. I climbed into bed. My wife settled in next to me under the warmth of the electric blanket. Nova Mae jumped onto the bed, curling up beside my legs. Edgar Allan joined us, too, and was soon purring contently.
We laid there looking out the big picture windows, watching as the best northern lights show ever, finally died down. “This has been a perfect night,” I told my wife. But she didn’t answer me. Instead, her breathing was soft and easy; she was sound asleep. “Look! There goes another shooting star,” I whispered.
As the tail of the shooting star faded into the night, I faded along with it.
