On Wednesday, January 7, 2015, the day of the terrorist attack against Charlie Hebdo, my mother called to see if I was alright and if I lived anywhere near where the attack had taken place. I reassured her that I was alright and that I lived a full mile away.
On Thursday my mother called again to say that I shouldn’t leave the apartment until they caught the terrorists. “And once they do,” she said, “you should get on the next plane home to New Jersey.”
On Friday afternoon my mother didn’t call even though there were two hostage situations, one targeting Jews.
So I called her. I said, “Mom, I hope you aren’t still worried about me.”
“I’m not worried,” she said, “I know you don’t keep kosher.”
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I’ve made a cartoon to illustrate my story.
© 2015, Gary Lee Kraut
For another motherism see On Being the Press.