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I used to joke that, on every Greyhound bus, there's an Indian man willing to share his Ritz crackers. Then, after years of repeating that joke, an Indian man climbed aboard the bus traveling from Missoula to Spokane, called me cousin, and shared his Ritz crackers with me. A hilarious bit of what you might want to call prophetic but it was only a coincidence, though some coincidences feel more magical than others, and some Indian strangers become temporary brothers.
My dad had a thing for a handful of saltine crackers crunched into a glass then topped off with milk. A child of the Great Depression, he was born to two deaf parents, his mom killed by a train at age 6. I never liked the snack though I would often agree to have some just to be by his side and listen to his sounds of joy. I tried the crackers and milk again about a week ago. I think saltines have gotten saltier since he died.
My dad had a thing for a handful of saltine crackers crunched into a glass then topped off with milk. A child of the Great Depression, he was born to two deaf parents, his mom killed by a train at age 6. I never liked the snack though I would often agree to have some just to be by his side and listen to his sounds of joy. I tried the crackers and milk again about a week ago. I think saltines have gotten saltier since he died.