May 9^th has been a holiday for me since childhood. My grandfather, Aghvan Abrahamyan is a hero of the Great Patriotic War. He is no longer with us, but his story lives on for not only my family, but also the entire Armenian nation.

May 9^th has been the day of victory and pride since the day I was born, but I don’t ever remember seeing my grandfather happy on that day. When his seven children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren would gather around him, he would always be sad and would only smile when he wanted to hide the tears in his eyes. He didn’t talk much, and whenever he spoke, he would finish with a phrase that we all knew by heart: “I don’t want people to ever congratulate you on such occasions, and I want your victories and congratulatory remarks be achieved and made on days of peace.”

We would be surprised at what he would say, instead of being happy and proud. Only years later did I understand that, at the time, we only saw one side of the war, and that was victory, but for my grandfather…

Twenty-four years ago, May 9^th became a day of three celebrations for me with the heroic victory in Shushi that turned a new page in modern Armenian history. Shushi became the guarantee of the invincible spirit and the incessant power of the Armenian nation in our days and the vigilant hero that can wake up in the soul of each Armenian and lead the way at any moment.

It was another victory, a feeling of pride and only one side of the war. The only difference was that this time the other side was becoming visible through the sad and heroic stories of the Artsakh war, the “weddings” in the mountains and the invisibility of the brave men buried at Yerablur Military Pantheon.

The war continued to be a victory for me until the day in April that “knocked” on our doors and filled us with sorrow and pride. That was when I saw both sides of war-victory and defeat. They were two sides, the weights of which are equally weighed on the scales of our intellect and heart.

This is victory with all its colors-heroic boys, unimaginable endeavors, already legendary stories, volunteers leaving for the battlefield to the sounds of the Armenian dhol and zurna instruments and the infinite pride of the Armenians. I also saw the “color” of defeat-lives that were taken away, young heroes who were smiling in photos, mothers dressed in black, orphans and an entire nation of people crying and in mourning…

Yes, we won in April 2016, just like we had in 1945 and in 1992, but we lost people whose lives were cut short and whose dreams didn’t turn into reality…

I remembered my grandfather, and now I want to say the following: Let all of our victories be achieved in peace, not during war…

Lusine Abrahamyan