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About
About
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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.
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.
09/10/2015, diagnosis day. Agreeing to live as normally as we could for as long as we could. Not being able to make it better. Sobbing in the little room.
your steak and ale nights. Your Spitfire chest. Black Flag hardcore thrash metal. Tattooed hands, crown illustrations. Your denial of the truth. Your hunger for life. Asking "why me"?
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.
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!
the day I met you, I wrote my phone number down and gave it to you. You screwed it into a ball and threw it over your shoulder, it made me laugh. When I saw you again, you had the paper in your wallet.