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My grandmother is a strong woman who has had quite an eventful life.
Part of her family came from Spain, so she was the only child in her class with brown eyes and dark hair, which earned her the name "the gipsy". She had five brothers and no sisters, so girly things never really interested her and she had no dreams of getting married and having kids.
But she met my grandfather, a woodworker who later turned to robbery, with whom she married and had two daughters. It was in a day and age when most men from the lower middle class beat their wives, and one day when they had a fight he punched her in the face. She balled her hand in a fist and punched him right back just as hard. He never tried to hit her again.
When he died she never even tried to find another man. "I don't mind my own company, and I've done my national service when it comes to men" as she says.