When I was a child, I was always excited when the summer arrived. Every year I spent my school holidays with my family in Jaén, but my principal wish was to see my great-grandmother. She was not so gifted, but I saw her as she was the strongest woman in the world. However, some years after her death I found out that she had had a life full of challenges.
My great-grandmother lost her first husband (my great-grandfather) when my grandmother was five years old, during the Spanish Civil War. To make things worse, she could not find where her husband had been buried.
We have investigated but it is not easy when people who knew him died such a long time ago and there is not much information about that era. She had to suffer fascist people's jokes, every year she went to France to earn money, and her second husband committed suicide. Nevertheless, she never gave up, she knew how to appreciate her life and gave everything she had to her daughter and son.
She was not just a fighter, she was my fighter woman. I will never be like her, but I try my best every day to make her feel proud of me.