Saltine Crackers

 by Amanda Latrenta Crane

Women feed other women

in deep grief

because we forget

basic needs like

Food. Water. Sleep.

I can’t remember if I drank

the cranberry juice before or after

they declared him dead

at Hackensack Hospital.

I know I drank

a ton of water

so I could escape

to pee and pretend

this was not happening.

That was the last time I did something

as simple as use the bathroom

or be in a room alone

for weeks.

Privacy died too.

I remember staring at one spot

on the floor of the waiting room.

My vision like a swirling dust storm.

I barely heard sound

except for the nurse telling me –

all you have to do

is survive

this moment,

then the next moment

then the next.

One of my many sister-friends

was there when I got the news.

And there when I had to tell my sons.                                                                       7

She sat next to me

with a box of Saltine crackers.

And said — eat one.

Now, eat another.

She said —you have to eat a total of 10 crackers,

then I will stop asking.

But when death rips into life,

there is no more hunger.