The problem of breaking the ties between generations
I settled in the late autumn in the village near Ryazan, in the estate known at the time of the engraver gallery of classic photos. There, alone lived his last days decrepit affectionate old daughter gallery of classic photos, Katerina Ivanovna.
Katerina Ivanovna never had anything to do with complaining, except as senile weakness. But I knew from the neighbors and from the obtuseness of the good old Ivan Dmitrievich, the guard at the fire barn that Katerina Ivanovna is not life, but one bitter grief. Nastya for the fourth year as does not arrive, forget, mean, mother, and the days Katerina Ivanovna read. Irregular hours, and she will die, not having seen the daughters, not prihlaska her, patting her brown hair "enchanting beauty" (thus spoke of them Katerina Ivanovna).
Nastya was sent Katerina Ivanovna money, but it happened intermittently. How Katerina Ivanovna lived during these breaks is unknown.
Once Katerina Ivanovna asked me to escort her into the garden, it wasn't early spring, all was not allowed to be weak.
"My dear, " said Katerina Ivanovna, not seek with me, with the old. I want to remember the past, finally a show garden. In it I was a little girl was reading Turgenev. Yes and some trees I planted myself.
She dressed very long time. Put the old warm coat-cheek, a warm scarf and holding tight to my hand slowly came down from the porch.
It was already getting dark. Garden circled. Rotten leaves prevented to go. They loudly sang and moved under his feet, on a green dawn lit up the star. Far above the forest hung the hammer of the month.
Katerina Ivanovna stood chapped Linden, leaned on her hand and wept.
I held her firmly so she wouldn't fall. She cried, as very old people, not ashamed of his tears.
- Do not let your God, my friend, " she said to me, to live to such a lonely old age! Do not let your God!
I gently took her home and thought to myself: how would I be happy if I had such a mother!