My family name comes with a strong women tradition of making impossible choices. It all started with the Second World War, when my great grandmother Vojka De Majo made a decision to run no matter what cost, with her little girl (my grandmother Vesna De Majo) in her arms.
She first managed to escape while the rest of her family was being boarded on the death train (they all, except her, went in peaceful steps, reassuring each other that everything will be fine, not really realizing where they are going). She escaped couple more times, one of witch she ran through a glass window and continue running. She found herself walking around the ruins of the city, carrying a little girl in one hand, and a machine gun in other. Soon enough she joined the resistance, and raised her daughter to be a fighter within the Partisan community (by the age of 15 my grandmother was carrying a gun). After the war, Vojka gained so much respect she became a judge of Supreme Court of Serbia without having an official law degree, and spent her career punishing nazies. She wore only fur coats (for what I apologize in the name of my ancestors! killing animals for fur is cruel and unnecessary) and high heels around the house, smocking cigarettes in mouthpiece, putting out ashes in her own pockets of those expensive furs, day in-day out. I believe that was a commemorative act to all the loved ones burned, and good lives lost. On the other hand, she would always light those cigarettes with a match and then throw it over her shoulder for good luck (thinking she'd survived so far, nothing could happen to her), teaching us to hold boldness in our hearts (never mind the two times those matches fell in the yarn and started a small fire in the household). Unfortunately, she died 3 years before I was born, so I got to know her only through family stories.
Following her footsteps, my grandmother Vesna proved herself to be a true De Majo woman - stubborn as shit, self-willed and wild. She was accused by Vojka to be too promiscuous, as she had grown into a quite femme fatale, there was a lot of dispute around the house concerning Vesnas choice in men, especially because they were all christian Serbs. One day my grandmother decided to marry one of them, my grandfather, a writer by the name of (will remember later) who wrote a childrens book "Poručnik Maslačak i njegova družina" (Lieutenant Dandelion and his crew). Years passed, two baby boys were born, when my grandmother discovered that my grandfather had another family in the city (he turned out to be a hard ladies man) and more children aside. She kicked him out, got divorced, and turned to poetry, art and social activism that got her in trouble with law. She became interested in Judaism, trying to reconnect with community and went traveling to holy land several times a year. Then, somehow... somewhere... she just turned around and went back to the father of her kids, declaring her love in a city hall with a marriage again, to the same person again, with a wishful promise that he would only love her. But, time showed, once again, that he really, really loved all the ladies, as some new children pop up on his doorstep. That unleashed such a furry that my grandmother stayed angry and grumpy to the rest of her life (telling me this story in that manner). Still, she managed to get some revenge (little peace of mind), by changing her last name from De Majo to Maslacak (Dandelion) which is the name of the main character in my grandfathers book (his true legacy).