Once a man I didn’t know well back then, told me one of his friends died. I didn’t know what to say to make him feel better, except one thing “we are a circle of memories. Sometimes this circle is abruptly concluded, one end meets the other when least expected or planned.”
In my life, I always recall of people I consider as my “ancestors”. They may be part of my physical family or just people that bonded with me, no matter if that bond was maintained or broken.
This is my grand mother, a woman that lived a life full of surprises, unconditional decisions and of a constant battle between pain and relief. She never seemed to be a more than an ordinary greek of her time, and yet, she taught me what feminism is all about, our freedom to choose our lives and work. The freedom to select, to argue and to redefine what seems to be a fact. She is now more than 90 years old, but still, our bond is special conveying love and truth.
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