Mikkel Hørlyck Photography
Conflict photojournalist and visual artist

Nanna's garden in Næstved.

When the first news of Covid-19 began to spread, the family knew that Hans-Wiggo's lungs were vulnerable, as he already had a rare lung disease, pulmonary fibrosis, which placed him in the high-risk category of Covid-19.

August 1st. Frederik Høegh-Knudsen (40) carries Hans-Wiggo's urn towards Herlufsholm church, with a straight back, hand in hand with his six-year-old son Viggo. Frederik's Spanish wife, Eva Garcia (40), walks with their two daughters Rita (3) and Harriet (8).

Four months after Hans-Wiggo's death, the son Frederik was finally able to return home from Spain. He had not seen his mother or sister for half a year. Frederik lives in Alcalá de Henares in Spain, where 750 people have died of covid-19 at this time.

“I have to admit that I really don’t have any bad memories of my father. We had a pleasant father-son relationship. I do not lie, that's how I remember it,” Frederik told the pastor Henning Marcher, a week before the memorial service. 130 people attended the memorial service. Only a few had cancelled in fear of covid-19.

Pipaluk Lykke (43) in her home. She visited Hans-Wiggo 19th March at Roskilde Hospital. “Dad spoke without having air, but his spirit was still full of life. He took responsibility for himself and for the rest of us. He knew very well that his actions and his words had consequences for us. If he had been self-pitying, it would have been harder to carry the grief,” says Pipaluk.

Hans-Wiggo Knudsen's (75) nearest family; daughter Pipaluk, son Frederik, wife Nanna and grandchild Viggo at his memorial service in Herlufsholm church.

During the memorial service, the pastor Henning told the people present about a strong, admirable man who always said, "family first".

Five months after Hans-Wiggo's death on 1st August 2020, Nanna, Pipaluk and Frederik lower the urn into the ground at Herlufsholm Cemetery. Just before the urn reaches the soil, Pipaluk says "stop!". She bends down, kisses the urn and her father one last time.

One at the time, people come up to Hans-Wiggo's final resting place. Nanna receives hugs, and her 73-year-old sister, Anna Thomsen, defies the coronavirus and kisses her on the cheek.

Pipaluk has moved to Nuuk in Greenland where the magnificent nature is once again present in her life.

Frederik has travelled back to Spain, but he is struggling with thoughts. His father's death has left him in doubt about his future, because he misses Greenland. “Some old ambitions have reappeared. I come from Greenland. Since I started studying, I’ve always wanted to return to Greenland,” says Frederik.

"When you remember Hans-Wiggo, you will remember him with his smoking pipe. They were good friends,” says Nanna.

When Hans-Wiggo became a grandfather, and later was hospitalized with pneumonia, he had to stop lighting the pipe.

September 18th. Pipaluk and Nanna reunite in Nuuk at Birte’s home, one of Nanna's friends. Pipaluk has bought a house in Nuuk.

“At times I can still feel grief. It's longing, and then Dad's just missing. Then I do some selfcare by eating something I like, listening to music, doing yoga or going for a run, “ says Pipaluk.

The sun is setting. In 1970 Hans-Wiggo moved to Greenland. Three years later he was to return to Denmark.

Shortly before, he met Nanna at afternoon jazz on a Sunday in Nuuk. “He looked at me for so long that I asked him if he would like to sit at our table," says Nanna. They became life partners for exactly 47 years and one day.

Greenland from above. When Nanna talks about Hans-Wiggo, her eyes sparkle. “He was the best person you can share 47 years with,” says Nanna.

September 19th. Nanna visits her friends in Nuuk six months after Hans-Wiggo's death.

In the morning Nanna cried many tears. In the evening she laughs with her old friends from boarding school.

Nanna’s friends are more than 70 years old and have known each other since they were 12-14 years old. Six out of eight have lost their husbands. One has been divorced, the other five have become widows.

A lake in Kanajorsui. “Hans-Wiggo and I both traveled a lot due to our work. That independence was important for both of us, and it’s beneficial now - because I can continue my life,” says Nanna.

Pipaluk is hunting reindeers at Kanajorsuit, outside Nuuk. “Hans-Wiggo wouldn’t accept us giving up after his passing. Dad always wanted to move forward,” says Pipaluk about her dad, who was a former Olympic kayaker, craftsman and contractor.

Greenland from above. "Everyone shared Hans-Wiggos' joy for life. He loved good food and funny people around him,” says Nanna.

Nanna is moved to tears, while watching a video from the village Ammassivik, where she grew up the first 8 years of her life. Nanna’s family moved, because they were told by the Greenland authorities that her father should become the leader of a new village.

Nanna is watching the video with Birthe, her lifelong friend during 55 years, who she knows from a dorm. When they were 13 and 14 years old, they were both sent to Denmark to learn Danish. Nanna later educated as a teacher and taught for 40 years.

Nanna sings at Vor Frelsers Kirke’s graveyard in Nuuk Centrum. The school class Nanna went to in her childhood, were known as those who sang. Every Sunday, Nanna goes to church.

Pipaluk prepares a boat to travel across the lake, where she will spend the night at her friend Thomas' house. Tomorrow she will go reindeer hunting.

Farewell dinner. It is Nanna’s last night in Nuuk, Greenland for now. She has invited her best friends and family for dinner at her near friend Birthes home.

Nanna’s friends have written a song for her. It tells that they are sisters and brothers. They have been together as friends for half a hundred. They have all worked loyal for their country, and they hope that the next generation will do as well.

In the end it says: we hope your future will be bright for you and your children.

The sky in Greenland.

Before the outbreak of coronavirus, Nanna's finger, where she was wearing her wedding ring, started to hurt. The ring had become too small. For 45 years, the ring has never been removed from her hand. She stopped wearing it and that was a bad sign, she told Hans-Wiggo.

Two months later he died. Hans-Wiggo's favorite quote was "a life worth dying for".

September 28th. In the picture, Nanna says goodbye to her daughter, Pipaluk, after a twelve day long holiday in Greenland, seven months after Hans-Wiggo's death.

Shortly before Hans Wiggo died, he told Nanna that he knew she would be able to make it on her own. This is the first time Nanna has returned from Greenland without Hans-Wiggo picking her up at the airport. Nanna has to return to her work as a translator.

At the airport, Nanna meets an acquaintance who shows her condolences, just as countless people have done, while Nanna has been to Greenland.

November 23rd. “I’ve always been afraid of going into the woods. It always felt claustrophobic, because I grew up with Greenland’s open lands, where you can see far. Now, I am no longer afraid," says Nanna.

After Nanna's return to Denmark, she started walking at least two times a day through the forest.

"At times it still feels completely different to live alone," says Nanna.

She sits by the creek and listens to the water on her walk. "I grew up in different settlements, where we always lived by the water and could hear it’s roar of the waves - it's great," says Nanna.