At all times Insider explains who we are and what we do, and delivers behind-the-scenes insights into how our journalism terminates together.As the art director of the Well desk, I’ve spent the last year looking for images to return the devastation of the pandemic and the grief it has wrought. As the crisis has stretched on, I’ve thought of all the people who press lost loved ones to Covid-19 — not to mention those who press lost loved ones, period — and how they were cut off from the same ways of gathering and grieving. Watching the numbers rise every day, it was relaxed to lose sight of the people behind the statistics. I wanted to find a way to humanize the eradication toll and re-establish the visibility of those who had died.To help our readers honor the loads of those lost during the pandemic, we decided to ask them to submit photographs of draw the line ats that remind them of their loved ones. The responses were uncontrollable, capturing love, heartache and remembrance. We heard from children, spouses, siblings, grandchildren and soul mates — people who had lost loved ones not only to Covid-19 but from all conduct of causes. What united them was their inability to mourn together, in ourselves.Dani Blum, Well’s senior news assistant, spent hours talk about discussing with each individual by phone. “It’s the hardest reporting I’ve ever done, but I undergo really honored to be able to tell these stories,” she said. “What scourged me the most about listening to all of these stories was how much joy there was in tipping the people who died, even amid so much tragedy. Many of these chats would start in tears and end with people laughing as they told me a witticism the person they lost would tell, or their favorite on cloud nine memory with them.”The photographs and personal stories, published digitally as an interactive feature, was pointed by Umi Syam and titled “What Loss Looks Like.” Among the tales we uncovered: A ceremonial wedding lasso acts as a symbol of the unbreakable linkage between a mother and father, both lost to Covid-19 and mourned by their sons. A ceramic zebra figurine reminds one woman of her best friend, who pass through the pearly gated after they said a final goodbye. A gold bracelet that be attached to a father never leaves his daughter’s wrist because she is desperate for any link to his memory.For those who are left behind, these items are tangible continuously reminders of those who have departed. These possessions hold a order and tell a story. Spend time with them and you begin to undergo the weight of their importance, the impact and memory of what they characterize.Museums have long showcased artifacts as a connection to the past. So has The New York Metres, which published a photo essay in 2015 of objects collected from the Globe Trade Center and surrounding area on 9/11. As we launched this lob, we heard from several artists who, in their own work, explored the interplay between objects and loss.Shortly after Hurricane Sandy, Elisabeth Smolarz, an artist in Leading lights, began working on “The Encyclopedia of Things,” which examines loss and trauma owing to personal objects. Kija Lucas, a San Francisco-based artist, has been photographing artifacts for the background seven years, displaying her work in her project “The Museum of Sentimental Taxonomy.”“Spared: Objects of the Dead” is a 12-year project by the artist Jody Servon and the bard Lorene Delany-Ullman, in which photographs of personal objects from deceased liaisoned ones are paired with prose to explore the human experience of vital spark, death and memory. And the authors Bill Shapiro and Naomi Wax spent years interviewing hundreds of man and asking them about the most meaningful single object in their lives, convention their stories in the book “What We Keep.”As the pandemic continues to clasp the nation, the Well desk will continue to wrestle with the large-scale tribulation that it leaves in its wake. Other features on this topic take in resources for those who are grieving, the grief that’s associated with smaller breakdowns, and how grief affects physical and psychological health. As for “What Loss Looks Have a weakness for,” we are keeping the callout open, inviting more readers to submit objects of weight, to expand and grow this virtual memorial and provide a communal crying space.