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MEMORIES (excerpt) 2008

FEDCHENKO ANNA IVANOVNA

       I am Anna Ivanovna Fedchenko was born in Ukraine, the village of Priluki, Chernihiv region in 1925 (27) September 24 in a prosperous peasant (kulak) large family (8 people). There were six brothers and one sister. My father, Ivan Kirillovich, and my mother, Marfa Maksimovna Sidorets, had at that time, that is, before Soviet power, a small estate where hired workers worked, they helped dad with housework.

     

       I know about grandparents that they had their own farms. Paternal grandfather Kirill Fedchenko. By mother Maxim Sidorets. Ivan Kirillovich's mother was terribly strict. It was forbidden to speak or laugh at the table. Otherwise, either with a spoon on the forehead, or kicked out of the table without lunch. Everyone was very religious. Brother Semyon was very playful, and on Easter it was impossible to eat until everyone returned from church. Grandmother said "do not eat until I return from church." We had an icon in full growth. Grandmother used to say “the icon will tell me who is eating”. Senya turned the icon and ate it. Grandmother returned and saw that the icon was upside down, he ran out and everyone understood that it was him. He ran away to his uncle (daddy's brother) and was there for two days. Then my uncle came to persuade him that his grandmother did not punish him much, but she still gave him a twig without pants.

 

      I want to talk about my own grandparents. I have not seen them, I know only from the stories of my mother and brothers. Mom's parents lived in Chernigov, and dad's in the same farm. Mom's parents were very kind, cheerful, and dad's mother, as I already wrote, was very strict, grouchy, and my father, on the contrary. He also loved his grandchildren and like our dad loved to tell them stories. He taught me to ride a horse, to help around the house, especially to harvest. They worked on a par with adults, but he kept saying: "An illiterate person is like a dog on a leash." And rightly so, the guys themselves achieved everything, because. dad was gone. And I always envied those who had grandparents. I did not feel their kindness. What can you do, such is life!  Yes, and with my mother, I lived a little - only 14 years. The war ruined everything. But I don't regret it. Once again I say that it is my happiness that I fell into the good hands of the Petrosyanovs.

    

      We had 8 children - six brothers and two sisters: Ivan, Semyon, Petya, Vitya, Sasha, Vasya, Nina, and the youngest me.

 

      Makhno lived in our house for 3-4 days. A sullen person, but not a rude one. My dad and I played the harmonica together. Makhno said that papa didn't have a good old harmonica. Makhno had a new one.

 

      Under Soviet power, they learned that my father used labor force (farmers), used someone else's labor. They decided to take away the estate, that is, dispossess the kulak, dismiss the farm laborers, and exile the family to Siberia. There were many such families at that time, they all suffered.

 

      Dad was not at home, he went to Kyiv to visit his middle brother Petya. He studied there. And armed men came to our house and told my mother to gather what she could and get on the wagon with the children. What could mom take? She was bewildered, crying. There were 5 of us at home, and I was 2-3 years old then. Mom made a bundle for each of us. She put a change of linen, lard, bread and a note, that is, a full name, so that they know who they are.

 

      It was winter, in February. We got on the wagon and drove off. And I just asked: “Uncle, will there be bread there?” He replied: "It will be, it will be, everything will be there."

 

      We were taken to a huge house. And my mother cried all the way. After all, it is not easy to leave everything acquired by labor. When they arrived at this huge house, they heated the stove, in the middle of the room there was a huge barrel of water and a very large mug on a chain so that they would not be stolen. (I am writing, and from these memories my hand trembles). We stayed there (we had our own corner) for 2–3 days. But, the kindness of my parents, who treated the farm laborers very well, saved us, and they helped us out of nowhere. Several laborers appeared and told their mother: “Maksimovna, lower one child into the beam (cliff), there is a cart, we will save you.” The children ran away, leaving me and my mother. And when needed, they went out in all directions. And when my mother came out with me, the sentry asked: “Where are you going?” Mom answered, she quickly went down with me, and we quickly left, and all the knots remained. The laborers assigned us to the huts of the laborers. And at this time, in the britzka, dad was returning home. These same laborers met him and told him not to go home, they told him everything. And dad was waiting at our house to arrest him.

 

       This is how we were saved from exile. Everyone decided to send us to the Rostov region, the city of Shakhty. Our cousin lived in Shakhty, and the brothers Vitya and Petya studied there at the workers' faculty. That's where we stayed forever. And dad, Ivan Kirillovich, stayed to try to take away his estate.  But the estate was already in disarray. The laborers told him - do not go, they will arrest him.

 

       During these years, a terrible famine began, they stole, they killed for a piece of bread. Saved by grass and horse milk. My older brother Ivan Ivanovich was not touched, because he lived in another village. And then he had one son, Kolya, and his wife, Olga. People swelled from hunger and my brother too, Kolya was barely alive, they gave him horse milk (it’s good that there was a horse, they kept it in the house so as not to be stolen).

 

       And dad somewhere got a piece of bread and bacon and brought it to Kolya, he didn’t touch it himself. He came at night, swollen from hunger, his voice changed, and the door was not opened for him. There were many thieves. Although he said that Kolya brought bread, they did not believe him, because. the voice was different. And in the morning they saw him barely alive, and under his shirt there was lard and bread, he didn’t eat it. I just told my son - this is Kolya. And before that, he told his son: “Vanya, I feel bad, if anything, you will replace me.” And so it was. He died in 1927, I was 2 years old, I don't remember my dad. Mom and dad were very kind, they never even touched anyone with a finger. In the evening, before going to bed, when they went to bed, dad told different and long tales. He taught the boys to sit on horseback and gallop, he himself with them too. In the summer, the guys helped to harvest with dad, but we also had laborers, for which we were dispossessed, and they helped, together with the workers, to plow and harvest.

 

       Ivan Ivanovich (we called him by his patronymic) somehow, the brothers helped him, came to Shakhty. He was swollen. We thought he wouldn't get better. The doctors told my mother to close the food and give it little by little. And one day at dinner, Kolya laughed. Mom asked: “What is the matter with you, Kolya?” He replied: “I didn’t finish the bread.” Mom happily said: "That's it, I'm taking off the locks."

 

       The brothers Sasha and Victor worked in the mine, and in the evening they studied at the Rabfak, then there were also educational institutions of the VZO ... this is not interesting. And Nina entered the sewing workshop, first as a student, and then she sewed on her own.

 

       And so they lived, but at our place (the apartment was first rented, and then bought). It was fun. The guys from work came, dined, rested and sang Ukrainian songs. The younger brother Vasya was taken in by his (mother's brother) uncle. He went to school with them. They looked after him well. They didn't have children. And when he grew up, he ran away to his mother and his mother did not let him in anymore.

 

        In Shakhty, when I, Nina, Vasya and Sasha lived, a student with her mother lived in another room in the house.  When the student left, her mother would put the corn on the boil for a very long time. I didn't go to school then. Came home smells so good. I pulled off one corn and ate half. When this Galina and her mother returned home, May mother cooked clover soup. Galina complains to her mother why there is not enough corn, and she: “as always!”. My mother guessed that it was me who grabbed a twig and ran after me, and I ran under the bed. And brother Vasya, the youngest, says to his mother - "beat me, well, the child could not resist!" Since then, I haven't touched anything. And Vasya says: "if someone else's - it means theft."

 

        The brothers, when they worked in the mine, received good free rations for that time, and we began to live normally again. Although the family was large, they lived together. There were never quarrels, insults, even the word "fool" was not pronounced. Everyone was kind, sympathetic, friendly. There was no need to ask the number of our house on the street, just give our last name and that's it.

Mom resolved all issues with her older brother Ivan Ivanovich. To whom to buy shoes, to whom to buy trousers, etc. All the money, salaries were brought and given to my mother. And when someone wanted to get married, my mother said: “You shouldn’t bring a girl into such a big family.” Either the room was rented or bought.

 

        Mom was an illiterate woman, she graduated from the 2nd grade, but she brought us up correctly. The family was very friendly. Even the word "fool" was not in the family. Vasya once stitched up and pricked himself with a needle. Said "damn". Mom immediately came up and hit him in the mouth and said that she would never hear this. The brothers loved and respected their mother so much that when everyone went on a date, they agreed to come so that mom would open the door once at the same time. Ivan Ivanovich sewed cloaks and shirts for us. At home, after work, we always ate, rested, sang songs and went for a walk. They were going somewhere, they took me with them. It was good for everyone together.

 

        And I was the smallest, but everyone loved and spoiled me. When they came home from work, they brought me something, either a gingerbread or a cockerel. The only thing that remains in the memory is the “tail of the fish”. When they received herring, and it was so good, big, fat, I had not seen one like this for a long time, my mother cut this herring into pieces and gave it at dinner. The head in turn, because everyone wanted the head, and everyone loved it, but I always got the tail. And I still hate this “tail”, and I love the head of any fish.

 

        And when some brothers got married, on Sunday they came to us, to my mother and family. In the morning, mom cooked pancakes and something else, everyone had breakfast together, then mom cooked dinner, and everyone else played lotto, cards, dominoes. They sang Ukrainian songs. Brother Sasha played the violin, Vitya (who married a Muscovite and went to Moscow) played the mandolin, Vasya played the guitar, and the elder Ivan Ivanovich played spoons. There was a whole ensemble. The older brother sang. After dinner, some went home, some went to the cinema or theater. Children - my mother's grandchildren, that is, my nieces, were left to us, i.e. mom. In the evening, I got the worst of it, because my mother cleaned, and she made me amuse them, put them to bed, and I myself wanted to take a walk with the girls. And my nieces were 3-4 years younger than me. Only Valya was small and nasty. She opened her mouth and screamed - she did not want to sleep. And I will beat her properly, then she quickly fell asleep. And my mother scolded me for this, but she herself didn’t touch anyone with her finger. The daughters-in-law loved their mother very much. She never interfered in anything.

 

        That's how they lived in Shakhty. At the beginning, they even slept on the floor, but the guys themselves made a bed, a big one, and only my mother, Nina and I slept on it. Then, when the guys began to get good wages, the salary increased, although it was very dangerous to work in the mine, they bought a small house with a garden, and life changed for the better.

 

        I started going to school, first grade. I was vaccinated against typhus at school, and on the second day I got sick with it. They put me in the hospital, cut my hair, I was “kyachal” (bald) so funny. My mother looked after me in the hospital, and when she brought a mirror so that I could look at myself, I immediately dropped it out the window, it was terrible. And so three fell ill with typhus: me, then my mother took me home, and she herself fell ill, then brother Sasha. There were 6 of us at home, three got sick, and three did not. Yes, and when I was 3 years old, I got meningitis. Dad brought a doctor from Kyiv who treated me for 7 days and lived at our house. On the sixth day, my mother gave me medicine, and I whispered: "How bitter." Mom's cup fell from her hands, for joy, because I only moaned and did not speak. And the doctor said: “I have nothing else to do!”. Dad took him back with gifts. Yes, I also forgot, when I was ill with typhus, I began to recover, my brothers came to visit me and asked my mother to show me out the window, they didn’t let me inside. Mom led me to the window, the door swung open and a draft blew me, and I immediately fell ill with pneumonia. That's what my childhood was like. Then I went to school in the second year, I studied at "5", I was given a free breakfast in the canteen.

 

        Poor mother got a lot of trouble. They were dispossessed, everything was gone, what they had amassed, then she was left alone with the children. During the day she worked around the house: she washed, cooked dinner. At night, she darned and ironed so that they would leave the house clean and tidy, and all the neighbors would be surprised how she managed to do it without outside help. Therefore, she left early, at the age of 66.

 

         She identified everyone: the middle brother went to study with a tailor, first as an apprentice, and then they bought an old sewing machine, began to earn extra money, take orders. I sewed trousers, shirts. Om got married later, but he helped my mother and me. He himself had 5 children. After the war, he became the director of the winery, was a deputy of the City Council. Lost a leg in the war. When Gurik and I went to Shakhty, we spent the night with Ivan Ivanovich. Gurik asked me in fear: “Mom, what is this leg under the bed?” I told him.

 

         So everyone dispersed, the situation in the country calmed down a little, there was no persecution of the kulaks, then all the guys began to gather in one hearth. They settled down well, started families: wives and children ... and now a terrible time has come - war. Another scary hectic life.

 

         Mom had some things dreams (now I have too). On the morning of June 21, my mother woke up and told her dream. As if pigeons flew in and sat on my mother's fingers, and she began to look at them and admire. Suddenly a strong wind blew with smoke, and the pigeons flew away one by one. She was left with two doves. In the morning, my mother told a dream at breakfast, everyone was at home, except for two brothers. Mom said: "Something will happen, and I will be left with only two doves: Nina and Anya." In less than two hours, the military arrived in a car and took away two brothers, they said that the war with Germany was the order to mobilize, and at the end of the month they mobilized the rest, and again we were left alone.

My mother was a believer - she sewed the prayer “Living Relics” on each collar. The brothers later said that, probably, mother's prayer saved them. They themselves prayed every evening in front of the icons, she had very good, ancient icons. After the death of her mother, Nina gave one good icon to Gurik from her grandmother, but I don’t know where she is now.

 

         When the war started, I was in Kharkov. Brother Sasha took me on vacation. And suddenly there is war. A summons came to my brother, he was very worried about me and instructed a friend to send me home. He put me on a freight train. And the train passed the city of Shakhty and stopped at the next station. I did not know this place and did not know where to go. It was already dark when a policeman came up, asked questions and put me on a truck that was going to Shakhty.

 

         All the brothers returned, although they were wounded. Ivan Ivanovich was without a leg, and Viktor, who married a Muscovite after the war, did not have half a palm, but they all returned. During the war, I got it. The bread was bad. So my sister and I walked at night, stood in line at the store to buy in the morning.

 

         In 1943, Rostov and Shakhty were terribly bombed. Once they threw out leaflets, where it was written: "We will come for breakfast, lunch and dinner." And they bombed three times. We lived in the cellar all the time. And another leaflet: “Stalin is sitting at the gramophone and listening to the song “Our Last Day”, and Hitler on the accordion “My dear country is wide.” And others were menacing.   

 

      

Above: Vitya Vasya Sasha   

Bottom: Petya, Anya, Nina

        Women had to work, and in the summer the students were sent to the collective farm to harvest potatoes, snowstorms, and carrots. I went too. It was a must, you can't hide. I was 13-14 years old. They brought us to the collective farm in some barracks, the boys separately. They fed very badly, washed themselves in the river. And so I decided to run away with one girl. And our leader was a very good woman - a mathematics teacher, Antonina Fedorovna. My brother looked after her, and I told her everything. She helped us, even gave us her ration. Early in the morning we quietly left, and at that time a cart was driving to the station, we asked our uncle, he drove us. We boarded a freight train and drove to Shakhty. Mom was happy. I did not leave the house so that they would not see me that I was at home. And the bombing continued! Suddenly my brother Sasha arrived and told my mother to get ready, he would take her and me to my brother Petya. Sasha was also at the front, delivering food to the front. When the war began, the Germans were already approaching Rostov. He decided to save me and my mother, and my sister with the child Lyudochka. He came for us to take us to his brother Petya in the city of Rustavi. He was then the commander of the summer battalion (where his brother was a sergeant) and lived there with his wife and daughter Lenochka. Mom refused, said: “I already lost both the house and everything in the house once, I won’t go anywhere. Has it been difficult to acquire both a house and a household and lose it again? Like all the neighbors, so do I. What will be, will be.” Good. So be it. At night they dug a hole in the corridor, covered it with whatever they could, and put in it: a sack of flour, a sack of cereals, soap, sugar, butter, matches, and covered it so that it was not visible that mother and sister were not in need. Because when our retreating people blew up both bakeries and mines ... In the morning, my brother began to get ready for the road and said to his mother: “Let Anya take me to the corner.” As I was in slippers, in a sarafan, I got into the car and drove off, I was 14 years old then. Didn't return home. And as soon as we left, the Germans entered. On the way we met a neighbor, his brother asked him to tell his mother that I was taking Anya away, let him not worry. And so from the age of 14 I lived with my brother Petya, and for a long time I did not know that there were already Germans in Rostov. My brother forbade me to talk about it.

 

        And so began my unsuccessful journey. Where I just was not with Sasha. God forbid anyone survive this. I slept on my brother's shoulder for a month. I didn't know what pastel was. Then the driver made a shelf for me, they made a bed for me, and I slept on the shelf at night. He bought clothes along the way or exchanged them for groceries. Sasha had a big car, like minibuses now. How many refugees were there? The Germans were already approaching Rostov. People ran away with bundles, with children. They sat on the brother's car from above, clung from behind. We are hot and dusty. They bathed, that is, they washed themselves in some river that came across on the way. The brother was smart. When we stopped in some village, he exchanged a bar of soap or sugar for food: chicken, milk or meat ... On the way, he bought me clothes and shoes. He was very attentive, because he felt responsible for me. (Gurik, Karen, and Grant know him very well. In peacetime after the war, I rested with them at the dacha, near Rostov, Konstantinovka station).

 

        They began to drive up to Tbilisi. And Petit's summer battalion was located near Tbilisi in Rustavi. Even before Tbilisi, we stopped in the city of Maikop and slept under the Katyushas at night - this is a huge car. When I found out, my brother told me on the way, I was horrified, I saw her for the first time. On the way, wherever I didn’t sleep: under the Katyushas, and in some kind of barn, etc. etc. And here we are in Tbilisi. The car was met by a general of some unit and ordered his brother to put him at his disposal. His unit needs such a machine, and I am assigned to an orphanage. I burst into tears and said: “It would be better if I stayed with my mother.” But Sasha was a savvy guy, and he deceived the general, saying: “We have relatives in Tbilisi: “Let me take my sister to relatives and return?” I remember this moment very well. The general looked at me, weeping, looking at his watch, he said sternly: "I'll give you 20 minutes." As soon as they got into the car, the brother said to the driver: “Come on, drive the car to Rustavi!” My joy knew no end! We arrived at Petya's at night. My brother didn't wait for us. Petya was very glad that I did not stay with the Germans. And then Sasha said: “I drove her for about two months, now I leave you, take care of her. Now you are responsible for Anya - she is the only one with us. Although once he still came to visit me and brought something. Petya lived there, I already said, with his family: daughter Lenochka and Maria - wife. We didn't sleep all night. Everyone talked and talked, and in the morning they said goodbye and left. What a goodbye, with tears in my eyes!

 

       And I lived there for a year and a half. There was one entertainment - to walk and meet oncoming trains, and suddenly you will meet some acquaintance. Once I went to meet Petya, mostly I went with his wife, we met two trains - nobody, the third ..., and we waved our hand and went. Suddenly he reproached: “This is how you meet your relatives!”. Turned around turned out to be Sasha! He had a week's vacation, and the same general gave permission to visit his sister. Ouch! What a joy it was! He brought me clothes, it was already winter. Left the money, and we said goodbye again. Everything went as usual, in the old way ... sorry. Movies were brought on Saturdays. They played cards, lotto, dominoes, in general they found fun.

 

       Mom was very worried, because she had six sons who fought against the Germans, and a son-in-law. Mom was a very kind woman. When someone was sick, she brought them sugar, butter. After all, as I said, the brother left them. We had one German left at home. Was very strange. At night he got up and shot at the ceiling. Mom spent the night in the basement, and her sister ran away to the village. But then the partisans killed him and settled other Germans in our house: the husband and wife are doctors. They were calm and treated my mother well. Then my sister returned. When the Germans left, and they were with them, they warned my mother to get water in reserve, close the shutters and lie down on the floor. Why? Because the Germans, retreating, blew up water pipes, and those who looked out the windows when they left, they were shot at and many died like that. And our people went out into the street when they heard “Hurrah!”.

 

       Then, a year and a half later, Grant Petrovich appeared. He was my brother's foreman. Sometimes he received parcels from Yerevan and treated me, and this is how our friendship began. First as a joke, and then the joke took a serious turn. Grant took care of me. Loved each other. His parents arrived: father and mother, met his brother. We met, they wanted to pick me up, I didn’t go, and my brother didn’t agree, he said: “I won’t give her up without the permission of my mother and brothers.” And the brothers sent me German parcels, money, so I lived very well.

 

       My brother took a vacation and went home with his family. What a meeting! Most of all, my mother was delighted that she saw me. At home, Ivan Ivanovich was without a leg (he was already married to a Ukrainian woman), Vasya was shell-shocked. Suddenly Grant arrives - he has already become a lieutenant pilot, he was no longer a foreman with his brother. Stayed a few days and we left together. At first, they did not want to let me into Armenia. They said there everyone had 3 wives. They didn't know anything else. Mom didn’t let me, because I thought that Armenians have several wives, and I said: “Well, if you don’t like it, I’ll come back.” And then she came back 50 years. And she was happy with him. And so we agreed with Grant to run away. Only in the morning, when my things were already in the car, my brother came up, blessed us with tears in his eyes and said: "Grant now you are responsible for her." Kissed, drank a glass and left. Almost everyone was in Yerevan, only Vitya was not.

Margo (Margarita Gareginovna) and Grant, 1941

Petros and grandchildren: Gurik and Karen, 1960

        I was left alone again with Grant's parents - Petros and Margot, and he left again. Grant also had a grandmother - his father's mother. We sat with her, talked, but she spoke Russian poorly, and I did not speak Armenian boom-boom. But they understood each other.

 

        Grant's grandmother, Zalo, was Petros' aunt. They had no children. Petros had a father, Artyom. Artyom had a brother Grigor. Grigor had no children, and he sees a dream that Artyom will have twins, and he said if there are twins, give me one. Deal. A twin was born. Petros and brother Abgar. And Abgar was given to Grigor (Egor). Therefore, the brothers became Pyotr Artyomovich and Abgar Yegorovich. Petros was the most intelligent and cultured, and the most handsome. He served in the royal army. We packed our bags and waited. Petros sent me away, he said you have a different surname. Say that you are the daughter of a friend who came to study. But it passed.

 

         I would like to say a few good things about Grant's dad Petr Artyomovich. He was a wonderful man, an intelligent, old officer. He worked at the Ararat plant as a chief accountant. A very decent, honest person. I loved him very much. He gladly accepted me, but my mother did not especially. When he was sick, he wanted me to follow him.

 

         It's good that Petros was a good person, he loved me, we went with him to the cinema, to the theater, he liked to go to the market with me. Even when he was sick, he liked me to cook for him, to take care of him. Before his death, he kissed me and Gurik. And their grandmother was sick. We sat on the balcony with her and chatted about this and that. She told me about the Armenian-Turkish war, about the customs of the Armenians. And when she got sick, I carried a parcel for her. I straightened the pillow, talked to her, and kept thinking that I was her granddaughter.

 

        Of course, when I arrived in Yerevan, it was very difficult for me. Someone else's family, their home laws. I didn’t know how to behave, because I’m cheerful, cheerful, and Margot pulled me up all the time: don’t laugh too much, don’t go out in a sundress. True, at that time women and girls dressed in the old way, their necks and arms were supposed to be covered, and when I went out in a sundress or a dress with short sleeves, they looked on the street with different eyes. Grant said, "Pay no attention." Everything was, but I survived, endured, and everything fell into place. True dad - Petros was very good. He treated me like a daughter (I already wrote about this).

 

        There was such a case. When Grant brought me and left me in Yerevan, in 1947, everyone who served in the tsarist army was exiled to Siberia. Grant's father Petros was an officer in the tsarist army and they also wanted to exile him. I began to cry. And dad planted and said: “You have nothing to be afraid of, you have a different surname, and they will not touch you. You will be at home, as if you were the daughter of my friend, you came from Rostov to study. Here are the keys, the money, and then decide with Grant what to do.” Of course, I cried, if I were alone, what would I do. And dad was an old officer. They put things together, packed everything and waited for them to drive up in a car and take them. We did not sleep all night, I tried to be with the neighbors so that they would not suddenly take me away. 2 days passed, everything calmed down, but still things were not unpacked, they were waiting. But it all went well. God has mercy!

      

       I sat and sat and thought about whether I should go to a technical school to study. And my neighbor encouraged me to do it. But I had no documents, no paper. The school was bombed by the Germans, and everything was gone. But I still went. I got to the director of the pedagogical school Anaida Khudoverdyan, she told her everything, she listened and said: “Girl, come to the exams on August 20, you will pass well, but no, no.” There were 2 exams. One in Russian, the second in mathematics. I was not afraid of math, I always got 5 at school, but I was a little afraid of the Russian language, I forgot all the rules.

 

       She didn't tell anyone at home. I passed my exams and got accepted. Again she didn't say anything. On the first of September, when we were going to work, I also began to dress. Dad asked: “Where are you?”. And then I told everything. Dad kissed, congratulated, but Margot was not very happy. But I was already in my third year when Grant decided to demobilize. By this time, Grant had already been demobilized and also entered the Agricultural Institute.

 

       A girl, Karochka, was born, fell ill, and was admitted to the hospital. She was already getting better, and Aunt Lyusya (Eteri's mother) was a doctor there, took the girl into the office and closed the door, the girl was crying, I was screaming. And when they opened the door, she lay sluggish and all said: "Mom hurts." She was 1 year and 3 months old. It turns out that again, without telling anyone, they took a swab from her spine. Grant was already in Yerevan when he found out he ran into the office, grabbed an inkwell and threw it at her, it’s good that he didn’t hit her, and she didn’t talk to her all her life, she didn’t come to our house. The girl died two days later. She was born in 1946. She would be 60 now. But what to be, that cannot be avoided. But I have wonderful boys and grandchildren. And when I was pregnant, I didn’t sleep anywhere, both on the floor and on the table. I fell off the table twice and nothing. Water did not rise to the fifth floor, I carried water with buckets, and heated the stove, in general I was not gentle, but I was a woman until we got an apartment and began to live on our own. In 1958, the son Gurik (Gevorg) was born.

 

       And how hard it was for me to study. I already wrote about how I entered the technical school. I studied well there, that is, at "5", I was the secretary of a commercial organization. At that time, those who graduated from a technical school with excellent marks were immediately admitted to the institute without exams. And so I became a student of the Russian Pedagogical Institute. In the first year, Gurik was born (he had a twin sister, but she did not survive). I had to take academic leave until Gurik went to kindergarten. Then I started to study. She sat down on the second year, i.e. enrolled me. In the last year, Karen was born, and the state. exams were due in March, and Karen was born in February. I went to the dean - a former pilot, and asked to be allowed to pass the state exam. exams next year. The dean refused to sign the application, tore it up and said: "Go study and come to the exam." (I also studied well at the institute). Oh, how hard it was for me to prepare for the exams. Nobody helped. Margot and everyone else worked. Karen was very restless, and even brought Gurik home from kindergarten. It was horror! I did not sleep at night, I worked out. And then came the exam days. I go, trembling, to the first exam - literature of the 18th century. When I pulled out the ticket in fear, the dean whispered softly, "Don't worry." The chairman of the commission was a professor from the Yerevan State University. When she sat down, the dean asked with his eyes: “How?” I showed that the first question is somehow, the second is good, the third is nothing. Again he reassured me. And when I went out to answer, apparently my appearance was unsatisfactory, I began to answer, and the professors started talking, then one of the teachers told me: “Answer the next one.” And I knew the second question well, suddenly, the dean interrupted and said to the professor: “Do you know, a month ago, she gave birth to a Ukrainian-Armenian.” He was inspired and said: “So why are we torturing her? And at the next exams (and there were only three of them), - he said - which one you know well, answer that one!

 

        And so, on my own, I graduated from the Armenian Pedagogical Institute. She became a teacher of Russian language and literature. I have achieved everything myself.

       Grant was a fighter pilot, but he was not in the war, and when I arrived, he transferred to Armenia and was demobilized. When he went to summer school without finishing 10th grade, and when he was demobilized, he went to evening school and graduated from 10th grade. Entered the Agricultural Institute. He graduated with excellence. We didn't need it financially. Grant, when he was a student, received a Stalin scholarship, 750 rubles, which is more than a salary. Was a party organizer. When he graduated from the institute, he became the dean of the faculty of mechanics.

 

       He was known abroad, visited many countries, people came to the institute from abroad, everyone reckoned with him until he became seriously ill.

 

       With a neighbor we went to the field, took out a hive with bees. We had two boxes, Grant multiplied them to 12. The boxes were made by him. A neighbor helped him.

 

       And it was good near Sevan, there were a lot of greenery and flowers. Three families traveled together. We lived in tents, homemade tables and chairs. In the evening we played backgammon and cards. They went to bed early and got up early. They ate a lot of yogurt with garlic and eggs - all this was bought in the village. Once Grant and I went out, bought what we needed, on the way back we saw a fox run out of our tent. I froze, I couldn't go any further. Grant dropped everything, ran, and then came out and said that everything was in order. Grant rescued a woman who was asked to look after Gurik. But after that, Gurik was not left alone.

 

       Second case. The chairman of the council came to us with his comrades to the apiary, to eat honey. We went into the tent, and the guy next door asked me: “Have you ever ridden a horse?” I answered: "No" - "Let's ride." He helped me get on a horse, and she carried me, the men ran out, and she was galloping across the field. They shouted, "Hold on to the reins." And they themselves sat on their horses and followed. Barely stopped the horses. But for some reason I was not afraid, the horse simply sensed a stranger and rushed off. They all got scared, because. the horse was not very docile. But well, everything happens!

 

      When honey was collected, more than half were sold, bought potatoes, onions, butter and more clothes for the winter, whoever needed what.

 

      So, Grant graduated from the institute, became the dean of the faculty of mechanics, then the secretary of the district committee, and then the director of the agrochemical institute, and worked there until the end of his life, 40 years. And the institute was named after him - the Institute named after G.P. Petrosyan.

 

      Then Karen went to kindergarten. I went to work at the school named after A.S. Pushkin, where I honestly worked for 45 years. So, together, for the first time, we went to school on the first of September: Gurik went to the first grade, and for the first time I was given the third grade.  We went to and from school together. Karen was picked up from school with Gurik and went home.  2-3 weeks passed, no one paid attention to how Gurik studies and how he did his homework. One fine day, I asked: “What did you get today?” He replied, "Five." Of course, I kissed him with joy, and when we came home, I asked him to show me the mark. Showed!!! 2 + 2 + 1 = 5, i.e. he got such grades, the poor folded and told me. Of course, I didn’t yell at him, but forced me to completely rewrite everything, because instead of letters there were birds, some kind of scribbles. And when they came to school, I went up to his teacher and asked: “How does Gevorg Petrosyan study?” Answer: “Oh, yes, I don’t know who the parents are, no one is interested. He sits on the last desk and does nothing!” When I said that I was his mother, her eyes became lanterns. He told everyone that he did not remember either his grandmother or grandfather, and his father too. But then everything went smoothly. I began to study well. As they came from school, they dined once during the lessons. And Karen ruined everything that the little one did. But Karen was also a good student. They grew up, graduated from the institute, became candidates of sciences. Gurik graduated from the Academy of Foreign Trade. Karen worked on the collective farm for almost 10 years.

 

       And as soon as I went to school, I worked there for exactly 45 years. I still have a lot of all kinds of commendable letters from the district committees and from the ministry, and from the school, and from my parents. I am a member of the teachers' fund. I enjoyed the love of students and teachers. First she was a deputy of the district council, and then a deputy of the city council. She worked for the trade union for almost 35 years. She hasn't made any enemies in so many years.

 

       I went on an excursion with the team through the districts, once I was at the state farm where I worked, i.e. was the chairman of the collective farm Gurik. There was a wonderful stone huge table and us, i.e. the school team was accepted by the collective farmers with honors, because the collective farmers loved Gurik.

 

       Years passed, life got better and better, Grant didn’t go anywhere without me, he loved me, and I was pleased with all this.

 

        Grant had a terrible disease - throat cancer. But he didn't give up until the very end. Wherever we went, everyone hoped that it would be easier, that they would cure. But, alas! Were in Chisinau, Odessa, Leningrad and twice in Paris. Nevertheless, he decided to go for the operation. The operation was done by professors in Moscow. He lay in the Kremlin hospital. The care was good. When he was lying, the sick Andropov was lying opposite his room, and Molotov and Sholokhov's son were lying in the same hospital. When he was operated on, a few days later, Grant asked the professor to take me to the ward. The professor did not allow, but Grant insisted on his own, especially since he could not speak, he only wrote on a notebook. However, the professor gave up. They put on me a gown, hospital boots, and I went. And along the way, the boots fell off all the time. The professor said: “What an inexperienced sister!” I called a real nurse, and she tied me up properly. When I entered the room, I saw Grant with a huge amount of wires. I refrained from crying. Horror! Then he was transferred to the ward, and a speech therapist worked with him, and he told me that I should have a lesson with him 2-3 times a day. The doctor wrote words on paper: ball, meat, window, etc. Few words. We sat down opposite each other, he read, and I had to repeat what he was reading. He spoke slowly. When I couldn't understand what he was saying, I immediately threw down the paper and got nervous. Then I went to the trick. When I came, while I was talking to him, there was a paper with words on the TV, I learned them by heart, and when I sat down opposite, I made the words repeat, and without even understanding, I spoke as if I understood him. It was very, very difficult for me to play a double game. When I told the doctor about this, he only approved me, said: “You are doing the right thing.” Gradually, he began, even in a whisper, to pronounce the words, and forced him 5-6 times a day, but there was no way out. I went for a walk with him, and when they performed the same operation on Alexei Mikhailovich Sholokhov, his wife also went for a walk with him.

 

       In general, I got Gurik too. When we arrived in Yerevan, I went to work 20 days later, as if there was nothing. But my head and back started to hurt a lot. French acquaintances invited him to Paris, let's go. It turns out that when they had an operation in Moscow, they took various procedures there, they did not take into account that Grant had a severe complication on his cervical vertebra. And in France they did him a second operation for almost 12 hours. Salt spread through the vertebrae. They removed the salt on the vertebra with a spoon. Again he asked to be allowed to see him. After 5 days I was let go. The doctors were also interested in how he felt, but I was warned - no emotions. When I entered, he was lying covered with a sheet and wrapped in wires. I refrained, just kindly said: “Grant, it's good that we came. Do you recognize me?" He just blew a kiss with his lips.  Immediately, the doctors shouted with joy: “Paron Petrosyan is good, good!”.

 

       A month and a half later we arrived in Yerevan. The doctors said not to get into a car for about three months, to behave calmly, not to walk under the sun. I went to work, from there I called home, they said that Grant called the car and went to the institute. I called the institute, Emma said that he had left Yeraskhaun, I was thrown into a fever. After all, they warned that if he did not behave as they said, his limbs would begin to fail. And so it was. Right arm and leg first. I was angry, comrades too. Especially Kim Gaikovich and Gairo Mikhailovich. It was so bad that I had to go to Moscow again. Gurik worked there. Came home a few days later. He did not pay attention to himself and began to barely walk, and in this form he went to work. I went down, and Aikazu helped further.

The last time we went to Moscow, he could hardly walk. Gurik and I again took him to the hospital, and there he died in 1987. Lost himself. Lately I hardly went to bed, because he called me all the time. When he died, Gurik and I were at Eteri's.

 

       There was a memorial service in the hall at the airport, which was attended by several of Grant's comrades.

 

       When Gurik and I brought his body (it was very difficult and hard, knowing that the coffin was traveling with you), there was a terrible fog in Moscow and my father and I sat for almost 2 days at the airfield. We sat in the deputy room.

 

       When we arrived, the entire airfield was filled with people meeting, as if all of Yerevan was there. They buried with honors, both the secretaries of the Central Committee and the ministers stood guard. The coffin was placed in the house of technology, almost the entire government of Armenia stood in the guard of honor. Too bad he left early.

 

       And that's how we lost a loved one. And if he had been attentive to himself, he probably would have lived another 10 years.

 

       There were so many telegrams from abroad containing condolences on his death. And how many thanks and diplomas he has. I keep it all. What's the point? Now all this is not respected. But he left a good memory of himself, that is, excellent. His name is immortal. His grandson (son of Gurik) and great-grandson (son of Gena and grandson of Karen) were named after him. Life goes on! Although without him it is very difficult for us !!! It’s good that he left behind a good legacy: excellent children - Gurik and Karen and wonderful grandchildren (I don’t list).

 

       In life, you have to be kind, sympathetic, attentive to everyone so that you are lucky.  And I was lucky that I met Grant, that I had a good family, wonderful children and wonderful grandchildren. In life, you need to do more good, because evil brings evil. And now, Grant is gone, but my comrades do not forget me.

 

       Grant was strong-willed, one might say a wise man. He knew with whom and how to talk. He was kind, sympathetic, especially to those who needed something. And he never prevaricated, he was direct and did not fawn before anyone. Therefore, respected, even the secretaries of the Central Committee. What can I say, he was a man with a capital letter. He protected us from everything and everyone.

       This is how my life went with Grant and children and grandchildren. It went beautifully, of course, there were disputes and strife, but more good. He was very fond of, just like me, children, grandchildren, he loved home comfort. He was strict, fair, and did not like hack work. He said that there is no word "I can't", there is a word "I don't want to". It was useless to argue with him, and only Grantik's grandson could argue with him. Somehow, Grantik did something wrong, but Grant-grandfather didn’t like it, he called him, came close, scolded him, and asked: “Will you do it again?” Grantik looked directly into his grandfather's eyes and answered: "I will." Grandfather asked several times and got the same answer. Grandfather could not stand such an impudent answer and only said: "Well, get out of here." These Grantiki, grandfather and grandson, are of the same stubborn character. Only Grantik could object to him. Of course, he loved children very much and rejoiced at them.

 

       Now I will continue the story of my brothers. The guys grew up, got married, had children, only Vasya was unmarried, and I was still small.

 

       Vanya was the director of a soft drink factory. He himself went to work on foot, although he had a personal car, he even danced. He went through the whole war, and died stupidly. Went to Voronezh on business. He took his wife Olga, and daughter Taya with her granddaughter. And he took them because they were in Voronezh, because. the parents of the daughter's husband lived with us (matchmakers). As soon as they left Rostov, a Georgian car ran into their car. The brother and the driver died immediately, and the wife, daughter and granddaughter were seriously injured. The Georgians also lost two. So for nothing, for nothing, my older brother died. He had two sons and three daughters. Now there are only three daughters. The brother's coffin was carried from home to the cemetery in their arms. He was very well liked at work.

 

       About the eldest, Ivan Ivanovich, I have already told everything. Second in seniority was Semyon, he married at the front, he had two girls, very good, and his wife Anna was a wonderful woman. In Shakhty, after my mother, when I arrived, I stayed with them. Good, it was fun. In the war, he was a colonel, helped his mother, sent money from the front. When I arrived with my wife, my mother thought about the apartment. We had a big house, she gave half of it to him. And they began to live independently, although in the same yard. After the war, he worked as a supply manager. He was very witty and kind. He worked where Petya (pilot) lived, and Petya worked as a deputy director of a bakery in Shakhty, where Senya lived. Petya had a wife, Marya, and a daughter, Lena. There were personal cars, but they liked to walk to work, through the park, and they met there. And if someone was late, he bought beer after work. The caretaker of the garden noticed that some two meet, talk for about 5 minutes and disperse, and so every day. The watchman told the police. One day the police began to follow them, and they found out, laughed and told the brothers about everything. Even Senya told the watchman: "Join, you will be the third." One day, Senya came much earlier, and so sad. Peter asked: "What's wrong with you?" He waved his hand and went, and then returned and said: "Petya, let me kiss you." Petya was indignant: “What, am I a girl or what?”. And they parted ways. Petya came to work worried, this was the first time he had seen Senya. I called at work, the secretary replied that he had not yet come. He went home by car, he was not at home. He went to the ambulance. And his wife Anya worked there in Shakhty as a nurse. She was told that she would take the patient. Anya went down and ... oh, horror, she sees her own husband. He could no longer speak, only ran his hand over her face, and died. It turns out that he became ill on the way, he fell and strangers brought him. Petya punished himself for not following him. He was 53 years old. It was 1965 (or 1964). They lived very friendly. This is the father of Alla and Tanya (her husband Victor). They were then students and their mother worked hard to feed them and clothe them. Alla got married and left for Dnepropetrovsk.

 

        The rest Petya, Vasya, Nina died from high blood pressure.

 

        Vitya is buried in Moscow, Vasya in the Rostov region, all the rest in Shakhty.

 

        My mother died the same way. Within 20 minutes. Only one word was said: "Anna". Apparently she was sick, but she didn't tell anyone. She was 66 years old. And it is no wonder that she died so early, suffered so much grief: either they dispossessed her kulaks, then she was left alone with 8 children. She was a mother-heroine and received money for this, although not very much. I never complained, I was always happy with everything. This was passed on to me as well. Although it's not easy for me now, Grant's illness, Karen's fate. But I don't give up. I have such wonderful grandchildren. Gurik's help, Naira's good attitude. I am always satisfied with everything.

 

       True, Vasya, this is the youngest of the brothers, when he fell ill, I went, his wife was not very healthy, he did everything himself. When I arrived, they were very happy, we sat with them almost until morning, remembering everyone and everything. And his son was a sea captain. He looks a bit like Gurik, only his hair was dark. He was sick too. Near Africa, their warship was detained for seven months. He got a tropical disease there. Very handsome, kind, sang and danced well. Gurik saw him for his brother's birthday. They all spoke English. When he had a hard time with him, he would not let me go. At this time, a Cossack chieftain came to him to enroll in his detachment. He signed up and died a few days later. The funeral was according to the rules of the sea, like a sea captain. They put a naval flag on the coffin, and a captain's cap on top, and a week later his father died.

 

        The next Petya is a pilot. He was very handsome, wore a mustache, had an infectious laugh, and was very neat. His clothes were always ironed, and he walked like a mannequin. He loved Grant, was at Gurik's wedding. He has one daughter, Lenochka. The wife did not work, she was very jealous of Petya, but she was a hospitable woman. After the war, he went to Ukraine, visited his homeland and saw his relatives. He also invited me, but I could not go, I am very, very sorry. He helped his uncle collect hay in the field, fell off the cart and the pitchfork stuck in his chest. He healed a bit and returned home. In Mines he went to treatment, but the pitchfork pierced his lungs, and he could not stand it and died. Horror! Horror! I am writing and my hands are trembling. I went to the funeral with Grant, because he was Grant's commander. And how he sang! When he was in Yerevan, he slept in his office, and Gurik and Karen listened to him attentively. He was also a Chekist. It's a pity! It's a pity!

 

        The third brother is Victor! He married a Muscovite at the front and stayed there. He worked in charge of the dachas of the Council of Ministers in Serebryany Bor. We often rested there and Karen and Gurik. At the front, he lost half a brush on his left hand. He was handsome and cheerful. I loved it when I came to them with the guys in the summer. As soon as I arrived, he said: “First of all, you will cook Ukrainian borscht.” And when she left, she also asked to cook borscht. My wife worked, she had asthma, and the two of us sat in the gazebo and talked, remembered everyone and everything. In the arbor they themselves laid the table and talked for a long time. He lived in Serebryany Bor. On one side of the river Moscow, with another small pond. There was his office. Often the workers gathered in the evening to play cards and bingo. He himself was healthy and interesting, red-cheeked, played the mandolin. And now, as they say, trouble has come, open the gate. Something bit him in the back, he scratched hard. His wife asked him to see a doctor, and he kept his own: "It will pass, yes it will pass." It got to the point that the back became purple and the temperature rose. And even before work, he swam in the river, and apparently, he introduced the infection, and got infected. He was admitted to the hospital. My wife called and said that Victor was in the hospital and wanted me to come. He loved me very much and wanted me to come. And I immediately got on my way. At home, Valya (wife) asked: “What does he want?” And I brought fruits, vegetables and cognac. It was in August. Valya said that he really wanted a watermelon. I went, bought, cleaned, took grapes, peaches, on the way (the driver knew where good kebabs were made) took a kebab and drove off. It was a very interesting meeting. There were three people in the room. I went in, stood at the door, and one asked: “Who do you want?” Viktor was lying with his back to me, turned around and shouted at the whole hospital: “Annie!!!” (That's what they called me when I was a kid). I went in, he just beamed with joy, met the guys, then I set the table, asked Vali for a tablecloth on the table - everything was on the "5", and poured cognac. Everyone drank with pleasure, and even with Armenian fruits. The guys said: "Anya, we know you from the stories of Viktor Ivanovich." We sat, laughed, jokes went. (By the way, Gurik went to me). The patient's mood improved. At this time, a Georgian doctor comes in and says: “What kind of Caucasian table is this?!”. I brought him fruit and a bottle of cognac on a plate. She asked how Victor was doing. He thanked me very much, especially for the cognac, and said that he would be home in a week. And Victor was inserted into the wound with a tube so that pus came out. He went to the doctor very late. She entered the room, sat down, said goodbye, and left. Well, I think what should I do, I need to go home. But every day I went to him and wore borscht. It's good that his driver drove me. The last day I went to say goodbye, cooked khashlama, and again set the farewell table, sat well, the nurse came in and invited him to dressing. The patients were waiting. Me with impatience, I also brought them borscht, said goodbye to them. They even brought me flowers. I said goodbye and went to the exit, and thought: “Why not wait for him and take him to the ward?” She returned, sat on the sofa, and waited for him to come out. What was interesting, when he came out, turned to the exit and saw me, hugged me with some warmth and said: “I knew that you would not leave.” And there were tears in my eyes, as if I felt that we would not see each other again. I came home, three days later I got a call: "Vitya died." Horror! Horror! It turns out that at night he turned over, the bandage fell off and there was blood. In the morning we saw a pool of blood under the bed. Such stupid blood, and he was only 63 years old. It's like thunder on the head, and again I had to go. Gurik was studying at the Academy at that time and my relatives from Shakhty came with him and lived at Gurik's house. Here is fate! You don't know what and where awaits you! He left his wife Valya and son Slavik.

 

         Sasha was the middle brother, i.e. fourth. This is the brother who saved me from the Germans! The father of my beloved niece Allochka and Sergey, Nadya's husband. Very cheerful, loved to sing and treat. He was at the front, as I said, after the war he began to work in the Rostov region, Stanitsa Konstantinovka. Barge director. And there was his office - a house on the Don River. Several years and we went there to rest, ie. me, Gurik and Karen. The house was large, like a hotel, a motorboat at the pier, a horse and cart. And there was no one around - we were alone. We used a cart to go to the village to buy groceries. The garden is fenced off and turkeys, chickens, pigs walked there. Sometimes the brother gave a gun to Gurik so that he could shoot a turkey, as it was difficult to catch them. And Karen sometimes got up early, dressed (there were a lot of mosquitoes), sat on the bridge and fished, when we got up there was already a full bucket of fish. This place was wonderful and here's the problem. He died. May 9, 35 years ago in total. Where he worked, comrades gathered to cheerfully celebrate Victory Day. They set up the tables, put a snack and, of course, crayfish. He also threw a fishing rod in the Don, right in front of his house. And when everyone had already sat down, it seemed to him that there were not enough crayfish and he sailed on a boat to that grid in order to pull the crayfish into a bucket. He swayed, and he was full, capsized, and the boat covered him. He himself could not free himself, although he swam well, apparently, he hit the boat, and while everyone was sitting on the other side, they noticed, they began to shout, and when they swam up, the boat was raised, he had already drowned. Pumped out, pumped out, but it was all in vain. Sergei's son was then 5 years old, Allochka was 17 years old. My brother Sasha died so stupidly. Horror!!!

 

        The youngest brother is Vasya (I am the youngest). He was shell-shocked in the war, and old wounds began to open, he did not lie there for a long time, he lost a lot of weight, ate almost nothing, only when I went, I started to feed him, got to his feet, cheered up. I sat with him for a long time, talked, remembered everyone and everything, as always. As soon as I got better, I left. How he hugged him and cried !!! Horror! Then I went to the funeral again! He was a sailor, and the boys studied at the naval school. He had two sons: Kolya and Tolik. Funny guys. Nikolai then became a sea captain. Handsome, real Ukrainian. Lived in Zhdanov. I was at his house, he loved me very much and called me Anyuta. When I arrived at the funeral of my brother Vasya, he was not there. It turns out that Kolya was very ill with anemia. Vasya was still alive (when I was with Vasya). After the funeral, I went with Tolik to Nikolai. He no longer got up, kept on injections, and I sat next to him all the time. And suddenly the Cossack ataman came to enroll him in his kuren-detachment. Nikolai even got up, signed, sat at the table, and even drank half a glass. And when he closed his eyes, and I wanted to leave (after all, it was late), and he said: “Don’t leave, I don’t sleep.” And on the second day he died! Horror! All relatives came to the funeral! What happened!!! He, too, was buried with honors. When they lowered the coffin, they put a sea flag on it, and then there were volleys ... He was only 41 years old. It's a pity! Oh what a pity!!! Gurik saw him, they spoke English.

The second son, Tolik, was also a sailor. And once goods were brought to Cuba (Tolik led the team), he stood, commanded, and one bale fell on his head. In Havana, he lay for 3 months, and then he was brought to Odessa, and there for 3 months. Parents sold their estate, animals and moved to Rostov, because Tolik was supposed to live there. Instead of a cranium, they made a plastic box on his head, with hair driven into it. He is a disabled person of the first (degree) group, receives a good pension. He is now 46 years old, and was 27, he has 8 children. The first boy, he is already 23 years old and the last, he is 3 years old, the rest are girls. Tolik was given a four-room apartment, a nurse was attached, and the parents also receive money for the children, like a “heroine mother”. He himself works now in a bookstore, and his wife is a housewife, but very well-mannered children. When I came to Vasya (my brother was still alive), i.e. to my brother, and they all came. First, Tolik walked with his eldest son, and then his mother, Lyuda, with his youngest son. And all beautiful, clean, and shouted: "Hello." Then, at first, I put them at the table to eat, and then they went into another room, and no one left just like that until we adults finished dinner. We sat quietly. There were different games in this room, brother; grandfather, beautifully furnished this room. And the children were all busy and did not interfere with us.

Now the eldest son got married, they bought him an apartment, and soon the wedding will be the eldest daughter. They all live in the city of Aksai. Gurik and Naira saw Tolik and Luda before they got married. They were in Yerevan for 10 days.

 

        Now about sister Nina. She stayed with Ludochka after the war. (Husband Andrei died at the front, he was very good, and Nina and Lyudochka went to live with her mother). One night during the war, he came home and was hidden in the basement. Nobody knew, and then left, otherwise they would have shot everyone; He left and never returned. Then she got married and had a son, Slavik. I was his godmother. Baptized in the church. He graduated from school, entered a technical school, got married, and his son (Slavik) Sasha was born. So he decided to go to the area, buy chickens for the house, and a piglet. Nina kept poultry and animals after her mother. On the way back, at night, he did not notice that a huge log lay on the road, overturned and fell into a cliff with the car. He was wounded, shouted: "Help." But not a single car was there, no one passed or drove by. Only in the morning they found his corpse, covered in blood. He bled out trying to get out of the ravine, scratching the ground. Nina is a mother, when she found out, her pressure rose so much that there was no place on the scale. After 2 years, she fell ill, lay for a week, and died. All my brothers died early and my sister, 62-65 years old.

I'm already tired of going to funerals and worrying. As you can see, I'm made of iron!

        I worked at the institute for two years. I took students to the theater, to museums, and the students respected me. I read interesting stories to them, forced them to tell, to complete what they missed. But it was difficult for me. In the morning at school, and then to college, I did everything at home. And I weighed everything and left the institute. The head of personnel came to the school together with one teacher and asked me to return to

institute. But at school it was easier for me to work, but at the institute it was difficult with correspondence students. And I refused. Correspondence students mostly came from villages, and I had to translate something into Armenian. There were many attendees. Once the deputy director of the state farm came to me and said: “Ay akhchik jan”, my grandson went to school, and I went to college, I would be ashamed if I didn’t pass (then I had to have an institute diploma). I ask him a few questions in Russian, and he answers something like “mine-your”. Of course, I put "4", then he wanted to know my address, but I did not give it.

And lived until retirement. The team loved me, and I, in turn, loved the team. And how they saw me off to retire, and this was facilitated by my "traitor" leg. I would still work. I was awarded the medal "Excellence in Education", I am included in the "Golden Fund of Teachers". I have many certificates from the Ministry of Education and from the school. Pushkin, I am a "Veteran of Labour".

 

       She worked for the school union for about thirty years.

       I was well spoken about and shown on TV several times. I am in the circle of students. Then I spoke at parting, said briefly, but from the bottom of my heart, and even sang Vertinsky's song:

 

"It's boring, languid around,

Sad, my way is boundless,

And the past seems like a dream

Tomit sore chest.

 

Coachman, don't drive the horses,

I have nowhere else to hurry

There is no one else to love me

Coachman, do not drive the horses ... "

 

 

But life goes on!!!

       I am happy that I have such warm sons and grandchildren. I am especially grateful to Naira, who is attentive to me, always friendly and kind. I can talk to her for hours, share. God bless her and be happy with her family.

I am grateful to Gurik, who pays attention to everything. How many times I took him to the doctor, and now I often come to Moscow, he comes out with me, he is not embarrassed that I am with a stick.

      

       All in all, all's well that ends well!

This is how my childhood went. You can say it’s hard, youth is average, in adulthood it can be considered normal, but in old age (it’s a pity there is no Grant), thanks to the children and grandchildren who are very attentive to me, it’s wonderful.

 

       Oh, and I'm a talker!! BUT?! Truth?! But she didn’t do mean things to anyone, like my whole family.

 

And lastly, my testament!

 

I am very grateful to all of you for your attitude to me!

Thank you all for your warmth and kindness to me. Your conscience is clear to Grant and to me. Good luck to you all and health is my blessing.

 

And further.

 

I am a disinterested, kind and cheerful person, not a whimper, and therefore I ask you all.

 

If it “happens”, and this cannot be avoided, then take me to the other world cheerfully. So that no tears and worries. And the main thing is that you have a clear conscience before me, and Grant knows about it there!

 

Live in love and friendship, this is the most important thing in life! But I really want to live!!! But, alas!

Health to you and long life!

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