NOTES OF MY GRANDMA

My grandmother, when she was little, ended up in a concentration camp. Her younger brother died of hunger, she had to carry him to the crematorium herself, so her notes began later, after the war. I only know that she played at the Philharmonic. My grandmother never liked the violin, but she loved photography with a violin. She played often. All my memories of her are associated with the accordion. Often, for no reason, just sitting on the balcony. We always heard "Katyusha" at holidays and feasts. I think her soul has settled in a big red accordion. From an early age to the end of life. When the instrument became too heavy for her, she asked someone to give it to her and played anyway. Afte...View all