Grandma could play several stringed instruments and sang. She dreamed of becoming a pianist. What she dreamed of didn’t come true, but she didn’t consider it a tragedy or a failure. She often said that her profession allowed her to feed her family.

Grandma considered the ability to provide for her family to be crucial. I think this was the reason why she disapproved of my desire to make creativity my profession. When I was a teenager, I wrote very passionately, and read a lot of poetry, and as my high school years were coming to an end, I told her that I wanted to pursue a profession related to literature. My Grandma answered that I would never earn money with literature. As a result of our discussions and trips to different universities, we decided that I would enroll as a meat processing engineer.

I entered, studied at the institute for six years, and never worked in this specialty — but that’s my story. Here, however, I try to tell her story.

Sometimes I imagine my Grandma playing the piano on stage. The hall is full — people are listening to her. Could it be like that? Could she give concerts and receive flowers, instead of saving money and counting every ruble to survive?

I’m sorry she had no choice. But I am glad that she never regretted it and was never sad about missed opportunities and unfulfilled dreams.