When a loved one dies, there are two necessary tasks for those left behind: to bury the deceased and to remove the deceased from before their eyes. Most people accomplish the first. Very few accomplish the second. And yet, it is the second that determines whether grief becomes healing—or bondage.
Burial is an act of dignity. It honors the body. It brings closure to a life lived. Across cultures and faith traditions, burial represents respect, reverence, and obedience to divine or communal law. But burial alone does not heal the heart.
Many people bury their loved ones in the ground, yet continue to carry them constantly in front of their inner eyes. The memory becomes frozen at the moment of loss. The mind replays the hospital room. The funeral. The final words. The regret. The “what if.” That is when grief stops being healthy remembrance and becomes emotional captivity.
To “get the deceased out of sight” does not mean forgetting. It does not mean dishonoring. It does not mean suppressing love. It means allowing the living to continue living.
In the book of Genesis, when Sarah dies, something profound happens. After mourning and weeping for her, Abraham rises and speaks to the sons of Heth. He says: “קִבְרוּ מֵתִ×™ מִלְּפָ× ָ×™”
“Bury my dead out of my sight.” (Genesis 23:4). The key phrase is מִלְּפָ× ָ×™ (milfanai) — from before me, out of my presence, out of my sight.
This is not a cold statement. It is not indifference. Abraham had just wept. Scripture records his mourning. His grief was real. But he understood something vital; grief must be honored—but it must not be allowed to permanently stand “before” you.
Burial is an act of dignity. It honors the body. It brings closure to a life lived. Across cultures and faith traditions, burial represents respect, reverence, and obedience to divine or communal law. But burial alone does not heal the heart.
Many people bury their loved ones in the ground, yet continue to carry them constantly in front of their inner eyes. The memory becomes frozen at the moment of loss. The mind replays the hospital room. The funeral. The final words. The regret. The “what if.” That is when grief stops being healthy remembrance and becomes emotional captivity.
To “get the deceased out of sight” does not mean forgetting. It does not mean dishonoring. It does not mean suppressing love. It means allowing the living to continue living.
In the book of Genesis, when Sarah dies, something profound happens. After mourning and weeping for her, Abraham rises and speaks to the sons of Heth. He says: “קִבְרוּ מֵתִ×™ מִלְּפָ× ָ×™”
“Bury my dead out of my sight.” (Genesis 23:4). The key phrase is מִלְּפָ× ָ×™ (milfanai) — from before me, out of my presence, out of my sight.
This is not a cold statement. It is not indifference. Abraham had just wept. Scripture records his mourning. His grief was real. But he understood something vital; grief must be honored—but it must not be allowed to permanently stand “before” you.
Out of my sight means:
The burial ends the physical relationship. Removing from sight allows the emotional relationship to be transformed.
There is a difference between remembering and being immobilized. Healthy remembrance:
If we only bury the body but keep the pain constantly “before us,” grief becomes an identity instead of a season. The person who died would not want their absence to destroy the life of the one who remains. Love does not demand permanent paralysis.
To remove the deceased “from before you” is an act of courage. It is saying; “I loved you deeply. I will honor you always. But I will not stop living because you stopped breathing.”
Burial is required by custom. Emotional release is required for survival. The second task is harder because it demands internal work:
- Do not let loss define your future.
- Do not let regret sit constantly before your eyes.
- Do not build your life around what is gone.
- Do not let the memory of death overshadow the purpose of life.
The burial ends the physical relationship. Removing from sight allows the emotional relationship to be transformed.
There is a difference between remembering and being immobilized. Healthy remembrance:
- Honors the person’s legacy.
- Inspires growth.
- Motivates better living.
- Brings gratitude alongside sadness.
- Keeps wounds open.
- Centers life around “why.”
- Creates guilt over survival.
- Prevents forward movement.
If we only bury the body but keep the pain constantly “before us,” grief becomes an identity instead of a season. The person who died would not want their absence to destroy the life of the one who remains. Love does not demand permanent paralysis.
To remove the deceased “from before you” is an act of courage. It is saying; “I loved you deeply. I will honor you always. But I will not stop living because you stopped breathing.”
Burial is required by custom. Emotional release is required for survival. The second task is harder because it demands internal work:
- Forgiving yourself.
- Releasing unanswered questions.
- Accepting what cannot be changed.
- Allowing joy to return without guilt.
This is why few accomplish it. But it is the difference between carrying a memory and carrying a weight.
When death comes, we must do two things: Lay the body to rest and lay the pain in its proper place. Abraham understood this when he said מִלְּפָ× ָ×™ — out of my sight. He teaches us that grief is natural, but permanent captivity to grief is not. We honor the dead best not by living in endless sorrow, but by continuing the life that still stands before us.
When death comes, we must do two things: Lay the body to rest and lay the pain in its proper place. Abraham understood this when he said מִלְּפָ× ָ×™ — out of my sight. He teaches us that grief is natural, but permanent captivity to grief is not. We honor the dead best not by living in endless sorrow, but by continuing the life that still stands before us.
