In denial, our minds know something too terrible for our hearts to accept. My mind understood that my parents had died. My mind knew that my brother and I had to plan their funeral. My mind knew that someone would need to lead the congregation my parents had loved and served for seventeen years. Still, my heart continued to look for them, to wait and to watch for them. I tried to do alone all the things the three of us had done together, all the household chores and tasks it once took the three of us to do. This way when my folks came home there would still be a place for them. It is a hard day when the heart finally accepts the death the mind knew all along, but that is where real healing begins. Eventually, we must allow our hearts to break so that our hearts can begin to heal.