It has been a week, since my father passed away. One week is 7 days; 168 hours; 10,080 minutes. During this last week, my perception of time has been all catawampus. There were moments during the last week that minutes seemed like days, weeks, or months. Then, there other moments where time was fleeting like steam from a tea kettle. Nevertheless, time is moving on, and the arduous task of starting a new chapter in my life begins. How do you carry on with your life without your father, when he has been a part of your life for forty-five years? I know what my father would tell me, which is this: “Remember the Good Times, and not the bad,” “Take life one day at a time,” and with God’s help. It is good advice, and I am going to follow it.