I’m not talking about Nuclear Physics. As, say:

the half-life of the radioactive isotope Cobalt-60 is 5.26 years, meaning:

after those years, there is still one-half of the substance remaining.

No, I’m talking about growing up, as a kid, and telling one’s age.

Remember how we always wanted to sound older, so we’d say:

I’m 6½, or 10½, or 12½?

We were trying to appear being more grownup –

straining to extend our lives toward those vital teenage years.

Once there, we were just 16, or 18, or 21, or 29, or 45 – right?

But, have you noticed now, in these latter years, what’s happening?

Just the other day, my friend said she was 80½.

Then I heard a man say he was 88½.

Being attuned to this return of the half-years of our lives,

I caught a voice in a crowd mentioning age 94½,

followed by the dictum:

“I’m still here, and this is what’s left of me.”

“Ah ha,” I thought, “it is like Nuclear Physics!”