This is 66: Hester Kaplan Responds to The Oldster Magazine Questionnaire
"I wish I’d taken more risks when I was younger and said yes to things more often just to see where they might lead me. I regret that fear and self-doubt kept me from taking bigger leaps."
From the time I was 10, I’ve been obsessed with what it means to grow older. I’m curious about what it means to others, of all ages, and so I invite them to take “The Oldster Magazine Questionnaire.”
Sometimes you’ll find responses from writers, musicians, and artists you’ve heard of—like Kate Pierson, Neko Case, Rosie O’Donnell, Ava Duvernay, Jerry Saltz, Lucy Sante, Ricki Lake, Hilma Wolitzer, Elizabeth Gilbert, Judith Viorst, Cheryl Strayed, Deesha Philyaw, Chloe Caldwell, etc.—but more often it will be people (of all ages) you haven’t heard of, Humans of New York-style. (Check out all the Oldster interviews…)
Here, award-winning author Hester Kaplan responds. -Sari Botton
PS If you’re enjoying the work I do here at Oldster, please consider supporting it by becoming a paid subscriber. 🙏
Hester Kaplan is the author of novels and story collections, including The Edge of Marriage, winner of the Flannery O’Connor Award for Short Fiction. She is the recipient of two National Endowment for the Arts awards and was named a Center for Mark Twain Studies Quarry Farm Fellow for Twice Born.
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How old are you?
66.
Is there another age you associate with yourself in your mind? If so, what is it? And why, do you think?
42. It was the age when I think experience started to accumulate and become some distant notion of wisdom I might need later on. My body felt still mostly intact then, invincible and infinitely healable. It seemed like patience, possibility, and time would never run out. And I had no gray hair.
Do you feel old for your age? Young for your age? Just right? Are you in step with your peers?
I feel just right for my age—while also fully embracing the delusion that I’m actually young (or maybe immature) for my age. My sense of humor is like a 9-year-old boy’s. I’m okay with the fact that I still don’t really know how to wear make-up. I see that I am in step with my peers in three ways: when I attend my water aerobics class; when I attempt to text without putting my glasses on; when I admit that I’m certain about much less than I was twenty years ago.
I’m surprised to find myself more resilient than I ever thought I was, and more understanding that painful and tough times are part of the long story. I was told that I would be more secure in saying what I will no longer accept, and I’m happy to report that’s true. I’m equally surprised to find that a lifetime of experience makes me feel lightened rather than burdened.
What do you like about being your age?
I like the self-acceptance that comes with age. I’d always heard this was part of getting older, but I never believed it. This doesn’t mean I’ve stopped trying to change, do better, be more open-minded, but it means appreciating, rather than simply accepting, that I am who I am and that it took me a lot of work to get here. That’s humility and pride together, a combination I could not have imagined when I was younger. And I like—no, adore, is more like it—being a grandmother.
What is difficult about being your age?
It’s difficult knowing that I have less time ahead of me than I do behind me, and accepting that this fact underlies some of my choices.
It’s difficult waking up at 4:00 am and knowing I’m not going back to sleep.
It’s difficult not being able to read in the shower which bottle is conditioner and which is shampoo.
What is surprising about being your age, or different from what you expected, based on what you were told?
I’m surprised to find myself more resilient than I ever thought I was, and more understanding that painful and tough times are part of the long story. I was told that I would be more secure in saying what I will no longer accept, and I’m happy to report that’s true. I’m equally surprised to find that a lifetime of experience makes me feel lightened rather than burdened.
I like the self-acceptance that comes with age. I’d always heard this was part of getting older, but I never believed it. This doesn’t mean I’ve stopped trying to change, do better, be more open-minded, but it means appreciating, rather than simply accepting, that I am who I am and that it took me a lot of work to get here. That’s humility and pride together, a combination I could not have imagined when I was younger.
What has aging given you? Taken away from you?
Age has given me an even greater dislike of going to the doctor, especially hearing, well, this is just what happens when you get older.
Age has given me more freedom and less concern about what other people think of me.
Age has given me enormous gratitude for friendships and taken away the belief that every relationship needs to be held on to.
Age has given me endless pieces of mail from AARP.
How has getting older affected your sense of yourself, or your identity?
While I’m no less ambitious in my work than I was thirty years ago, I see and appreciate more clearly now the value in what I can offer in experience and support in my role as a teacher.
It’s an infuriating cliché to say that older women are invisible, but it’s also true. What is also true is that for me invisibility now comes with a greater sense of my own internal visibility. I know I’m still very much here.
What are some age-related milestones you are looking forward to? Or ones you “missed,” and might try to reach later, off-schedule, according to our culture and its expectations?
I’d like to live in another country for a while, and be fit and fearless enough to explore. I’d like to write more books.
What has been your favorite age so far, and why? Would you go back to this age if you could?
I’d like to go back to 18—but only for a couple of weeks. I’m not sure it was my favorite age—the age I’m at is always my favorite age—but it was a time of feeling that everything was possible. It was exciting romantically, erotically, intellectually.
I played sports all through school, and basketball in college, and it’s still hard for me to believe I can’t go as hard as I want to without paying for it. I’ve had to accept that an injury now generally becomes something chronic. I also now get up from my desk every thirty minutes to walk around.
Is there someone who is older than you, who makes growing older inspiring to you? Who is your aging idol and why?
My grandfather died when he was 103. He was almost entirely with it until the end. For the last 25 years of his life, he took a walk and a glass of sherry every day, and his diet consisted of potato chips, cookies, fatty hamburgers he cooked on the stove, and boxes of filled chocolates, some of which would pull out his dentures.
What aging-related adjustments have you recently made, style-wise, beauty-wise, health-wise?
My mind is much more active at night than it used to be—and that’s either because I have more thoughts or the switch to turn them off has finally burned out. I listen to podcasts in order to quiet my night thoughts. I played sports all through school, and basketball in college, and it’s still hard for me to believe I can’t go as hard as I want to without paying for it. I’ve had to accept that an injury now generally becomes something chronic. I also now get up from my desk every thirty minutes to walk around.
What’s an aging-related adjustment you refuse to make, and why?
I won’t stop wearing sneakers or going down water slides or swearing whenever and however I want.
What turn of events had the biggest impact on your life? What took your life in a different direction, for better or worse?
Easy answer—having and raising my two children and seeing them become loving, generous, and beautiful men.
What is your number one regret in life? If you could do it all over again, what is the biggest thing you’d do differently?
I wish I’d taken more risks when I was younger and said yes to things more often just to see where they might lead me. I regret that fear and self-doubt kept me from taking bigger leaps.
My grandfather died when he was 103. He was almost entirely with it until the end. For the last 25 years of his life, he took a walk and a glass of sherry every day, and his diet consisted of potato chips, cookies, fatty hamburgers he cooked on the stove, and boxes of filled chocolates, some of which would pull out his dentures.
What is high up on your “bucket list?” What do you hope to achieve, attain, or plain enjoy before you die?
On the list is finding more mental quiet and engaging in less self-criticism. Those two things are right up there with swimming in all the world’s best swimming pools.
Is there a piece of advice you were given, that you live by? If so, what was it, and who offered it to you?
My father, a writer, and the subject of my new book, told me that getting the details right in a piece of writing is everything.
What are your plans for your body when you’re done using it? Burial? Cremation? Body Farm? Other?
I want to be frozen so I can be thawed when the time is right. Which of course will be someone else’s decision, so we’ll see where and when I end up.
My mind is much more active at night than it used to be—and that’s either because I have more thoughts or the switch to turn them off has finally burned out. I listen to podcasts in order to quiet my night thoughts.
How do you feel about dying? And what do you expect to happen to your “soul” or “spirit” after you die?
I don’t think about dying. That’s an indulgence I allow myself.
What’s your philosophy on celebrating birthdays as an adult? How do you celebrate yours?
I love celebrating other people’s birthdays—complete with noise makers, streamers, balloons, and pointy hats. I usually celebrate my own birthday in a very quiet, non-balloon-ish way. That choice is my gift to myself.
This is me: "It’s difficult not being able to read in the shower which bottle is conditioner and which is shampoo." Also the new book sounds wonderful--can't wait to get my hands on it.
I just turned 81 so 66 sounds soooo young to me. Just a year ago I really dreaded turning 80. For whatever reason, I am now enjoying being 81, grateful that I have already lived a long, rich life even though there are things I can no longer do. The most difficult part of my life now is that so many of my long time friends are dying. Letting go is not easy!