When my mom started a family, she decided to leave her demanding job in advertising and find a different source of income. Her two priorities for a new job were that she not have a boss breathing down her neck, and that she be free to take a break every day to make lunch for her kids. Looking back on those lunch breaks, which she and I usually spent together, just the two of us, they now seem like an oasis of stability in a turbulent world. There was always an onslaught of things happening around us: a war at the northern border, a neighbor kid who went missing for days, regime changes, neighborhood disputes, and on and on. But all those remained outside of our little “lunch with Mom” bubble, which was always calm and predictable. The dishes she cooked were familiar and beloved, as were the songs that played on the radio while we ate, and as long as I could keep sitting there, chewing my food, the world around me felt warm and loving and logical. Every day, Mom made two different desserts, and I got to choose. She explained that when you choose something, it tastes better, and because dessert is the comfort at the end of a meal, it should be as delicious as possible. Whichever dessert I didn’t choose would get eaten later in the day, by my dad or my siblings. But even fifty years later, those few seconds at the end of lunch when I made my selection – chocolate mousse, Jell-O, or pudding – still seem like the greatest freedom I’ve ever had. I’ve been trying to recreate that moment since my mother died, and the closest I’ve been able to get is when I write.

It’s been five years since you died, and I’m only now writing. I’m sorry it took me so long, but I was waiting for some good news to share, and there never was any.

Photograph: Nir Alon/Zuma Press Wire/Rex/Shutterstock

"היקום הקורס אל תוך עצמו של קרת הוא היקום שלנו, ולמול התחושה שלא נותרו לנו בו כמעט שום נקודות ייחוס יציבות, הכתיבה הקרתית היא נקודת ייחוס יציבה; ומוכרותה, שבנסיבות אחרות הייתה יכולה לשמש כטיעון כנגדה, הופכת לעוגן חיוני מתמיד. כי בקיום שמשתנה באופן בלתי נסבל כל כך, הופך הקבוע והיציב לאפשרות היחידה שלנו לזהות את עצמנו, לנקודת הייחוס שלמולה אנו יכולים לתפוס את ההשתנות ולאמוד את דרכנו על פני המסלול הבלתי מובן שעושה הכוכב שבו נגזר עלינו לחיות."

- שירי ארצי, ידיעות

Written by Etgar Keret and Shira Geffen for “Short Stories on Human Rights“ (2008).