This is 81: Poet Judith Barrington Responds to The Oldster Magazine Questionnaire
"I had always bought into the cliches about old people being sad and lonely. These last dozen years have been the happiest of my life."
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, poet and memoirist Judith Barrington responds. -Sari Botton
PS If you’re enjoying the work I do here at Oldster, please consider supporting it by becoming a paid subscriber. 🙏
Judith Barrington is a writer who has published eight books: five collections of poetry, two memoirs and a text about writing memoir. She has taught writing at numerous universities and workshops in the U.S., U.K., and Spain. She grew up in England and moved to Oregon in 1976. She lives in Portland with her partner of 46 years.
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How old are you?
81
Is there another age you associate with yourself in your mind? If so, what is it? And why, do you think?
No specific age but I am always surprised to realize how old I have become.
Do you feel old for your age? Young for your age? Just right? Are you in step with your peers?
Young for my age. In step with my peers in my social life, my cognitive abilities, my engagement in my life’s work. I have Charcot-Marie-Tooth disease (CMT), a genetic neuro-muscular degenerative disease which affects my limbs; I use a mobility scooter for any distance longer than a block so I am not “in step” with most of my peers physically. The CMT also affects my daily allotment of energy.
What do you like about being your age?
Contentment. Joyfulness. Gratitude. A feeling of liberation from so much of what preoccupied me for much of my life.
What is difficult about being your age?
The deaths of beloved friends and relatives.
I have Charcot-Marie-Tooth disease (CMT), a genetic neuro-muscular degenerative disease which affects my limbs; I use a mobility scooter for any distance longer than a block so I am not “in step” with most of my peers physically. The CMT also affects my daily allotment of energy.
What is surprising about being your age, or different from what you expected, based on what you were told?
The ability to feel great joy so often. The pleasure of being with old friends. I did not expect that. These last dozen years have been the happiest of my life. I had always bought into the cliches about old people being sad and lonely.
What has aging given you? Taken away from you?
Aging has given me more knowledge. More books to read. More books to write. More discernment about friends. More ability to say NO. Because of my progressive disease, it has taken away my mobility, a clear speaking voice, and the kind of endurance I once took for granted. Age itself has taken away many beloved friends and family members.
How has getting older affected your sense of yourself, or your identity?
I don’t think about a sense of myself very often anymore. I don’t care if I seem eccentric. Being a feminist, a lesbian, a writer—many identities were once very important to me. They are now so deeply embedded in who I am I no longer care if others recognize me in any of those ways.
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’ve led an unconventional life that did not contain the usual “milestones,” (or even alternative ones) so I don’t think in those terms.
Aging has given me more knowledge. More books to read. More books to write. More discernment about friends. More ability to say NO. Because of my progressive disease, it has taken away my mobility, a clear speaking voice, and the kind of endurance I once took for granted. Age itself has taken away many beloved friends and family members.
What has been your favorite age so far, and why? Would you go back to this age if you could?
69—because that year I survived and recovered from a brain bleed that nearly killed me. Every year after that has been gravy. But I wouldn’t go back, even though I lament how fast it’s going by.
Is there someone who is older than you, who makes growing older inspiring to you? Who is your aging idol and why?
I’ve always admired Gloria Steinem, who is ten years older than I, for modeling being 60, then 70, then 80, now 90, showing us all that you can continue to live a meaningful and generous life as you grow old.
Also Carlos Reyes, 90-year-old Irish poet.

What aging-related adjustments have you recently made, style-wise, beauty-wise, health-wise?
All my adjustments are health-related. I use a mobility scooter (I have a minivan with an electric lift so I can drive myself and manage the mobility scooter on my own). I am considering a lightweight wheelchair to make it easier to take an Uber or Lyft. I only go to restaurants with comfortable chairs and no loud music. I mostly make lunch dates instead of dinner dates. I do water aerobics three times a week.
What’s an aging-related adjustment you refuse to make, and why?
I won’t describe myself as “retired.” I published a book last year; I have been a writer my entire adult life and will continue to write even if my hands give out. (Computer dictation.)
I don’t think about a sense of myself very often anymore. I don’t care if I seem eccentric. Being a feminist, a lesbian, a writer—many identities were once very important to me. They are now so deeply embedded in who I am I no longer care if others recognize me in any of those ways.
What turn of events had the biggest impact on your life? What took your life in a different direction, for better or worse?
My parents drowned in a cruise-ship disaster when I was 19. I have no doubt my life would have been completely different if that had not happened. Its impact lasted through much of my adulthood. I was too young to have the emotional resources to grieve when it happened and it took me a long time and much therapy and other support to finally be able to grieve that huge loss.
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 would have found a way to continue riding horses and having relationships with them.
What is high up on your “bucket list?” What do you hope to achieve, attain, or plain enjoy before you die?
I want to make an audio book of my last published book, Virginia’s Apple. But I am not a “bucket list” person—I have never made lists of what I wanted to do or achieve. Every day presents new opportunities, new vistas, new wisdom. The most important thing to me now is to be with my life partner and enjoy every day as it comes.
Is there a piece of advice you were given, that you live by? If so, what was it, and who offered it to you?
As a poet, I was familiar with Mary Oliver’s work before it passed into mainstream culture. I loved this quote and still do, even though it’s become a common meme: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
I won’t describe myself as “retired.” I published a book last year; I have been a writer my entire adult life and will continue to write even if my hands give out. (Computer dictation.)
What are your plans for your body when you’re done using it? Burial? Cremation? Body Farm? Other?
My partner and I each plan to be cremated. We purchased a “plot” in the Chestnut Grove Memorial Garden, part of the historic Lone Fir Cemetery a few blocks from our house where we have walked our dogs and walked with friends almost daily for the fifty years we’ve lived here. We like that it has been a cemetery for everyone from the city “fathers” to the inmates of an insane asylum, and the Chinese railroad workers, going back to the mid-1850s. It is a beautiful old cemetery that is considered to be a major arboretum.
How do you feel about dying? And what do you expect to happen to your “soul” or “spirit” after you die?
I hope to live on in the good I’ve done while alive; I hope my writing lives on. I am not afraid to die although I hope I have many good years left.
My parents drowned in a cruise-ship disaster when I was 19. I have no doubt my life would have been completely different if that had not happened. Its impact lasted through much of my adulthood. I was too young to have the emotional resources to grieve when it happened and it took me a long time and much therapy and other support to finally be able to grieve that huge loss.
What’s your philosophy on celebrating birthdays as an adult? How do you celebrate yours?
Birthdays have always been important to me. I now celebrate mine every year by going out to a nice dinner with my partner and sometimes other friends. I enjoy getting cards and email messages and even phone calls from family and good friends. It’s important to me to mark it. I had a big party for my 50th and also for my 70th. Maybe I’ll have one for my 90th.







Gorgeous answers. "[M]any identities were once very important to me. They are now so deeply embedded in who I am I no longer care if others recognize me in any of those ways" really lit something in me -- I feel like I'm partway through this process, but have not heard it expressed so resonantly before now. Off to go seek out more of Judith's writing.
So good to read this interview. Judith Barrington is a wonderful poet and memoirist. I was lucky enough to attend a small workshop she gave via the Poetry School and Mimi Khalvati in London in the early 2000s (or maybe late 1990s?), and it was wonderful. She is a kind, generous, fabulous woman, and I'm looking forward to reading her latest book. I'm very glad Judith Barrington is in the world!