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‘I Remember’ is a collective biography of grief and loss in the 21st century. It is a collaboration, a narrative landscape, an evolving archive, a scrolling poem.

What are you losing?
How are you grieving?
What do you remember?
Who have you lost?

This site is collecting memories and imaginaries for us all.

Please add yours.

I would be immensely grateful for contributions on death and grief in the time of Covid-19, especially by patients, their loved ones, medical professionals and key workers.

If you would like to take part in our one to one workshops please email zoe@iremember.co

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Keywords

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Grief - A Work in Progress

The I Remember site is part of Grief – A Work in Progress, a series of audience participatory interventions that explore, record and archive the anatomy of loss in the 21st century.

Visit Grief – A Work in Progress

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Father

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I remember

Seeing the...

Rebecca S.

I remember

Seeing the coffin for the first time at the crematorium and feeling nothing at all. I remember being terrified I wouldn't be able to remember everything.

Rebecca S.

you getting...

Elia N.

I remember

you getting lost at Heathrow airport and thinking it's your last trip abroad. I remember the only moment on my wedding day that you seemed to understand what was going on.

Elia N.

you writing...

Elia N.

I remember

you writing on the kitchen table, crafting poems with a tiny pencil. I remember you thinking you saw ghosts in the room that didn't exist.

Elia N.

your tender...

Elia N.

I remember

your tender kiss on my forehead, every night, every morning, every time I visited. Making the sign of the cross every time we took a stroll underneath the Acropolis.

Elia N.

how you...

Anna D.

I remember

how you would write cards as if they were from the cats, even when I was an adult. How much your eternal optimism would piss me off and how much I now miss it.

Anna D.

how you...

Anna D.

I remember

how you would write cards as if they were from the cats, even when I was an adult. How much your eternal optimism would piss me off and how much I now miss it.

Anna D.

the second...

Rebecca S.

I remember

the second I realised you were dead which was at the hospital morgue a day later. Reading your death certificate for the first time. On paper it feels very strange.

Rebecca S.

when you...

Rebecca S.

I remember

when you would call me from work on your lunch break and talk total rubbish for an hour. When you would give me lifts to college at 5am and we'd laugh about Sarah Kennedy on BBC2 being a nutter!

Rebecca S.