Whispered Prayers

by Alex Grayson

Her words hurt something deep inside me. My instincts tell me to reach out and comfort her, but I hold back, not really sure if I should. Her head’s down, and she takes deep breaths as she tries to get a hold of her emotions. When she lifts her head, her eyes are watery, but I can tell she’s forcefully pushing the tears back. “I’m sorry,” she says softly. “I shouldn’t burden yo—” “Don’t,” I say a bit more harshly than intended. Her eyes widen. “Don’t apologize for your pain. Never be sorry for something like that.” She stares at me for a full minute before she nods. “Thank you.”

“She’ll come around. She just needs to figure out how to let go of the pain in her heart first.”

“Please, God, just let my daddy come home,” Kelsey’s tearful voice whispers. “And please tell him I’m sorry. I miss him so much. I just want to hug him again and tell him I love him.” Her voice is lower when she finishes. “In Jesus’ name, amen.”

takes me a long time to drift off to sleep, and when I finally manage to, it’s a restless sleep filled with the whispered prayers of a broken girl.

I lie in bed and listen to the soft words coming from Kelsey, my heart splintering into two, then three, then into a thousand pieces.

“Please, God, let my daddy come back home. I miss him so much. I just want him to come home. That’s all I’ll ever ask you, if you just let him come back to us. And please tell him I’m sorry.” She sniffles, then finishes, “In Jesus’ name, amen.”

“Shhh,” I whisper into the darkness, rubbing circles on her upper back. “It’s okay.” “I miss my dad,” she whispers back, further obliterating my heart and shocking me more.

I squeeze my eyes closed to keep back the tears wanting to fall. I am so completely blessed to hear this girl’s beautiful voice after years of not letting anyone hear it, but the tortured words and the pain behind them leave me feeling like I’m taking my last painful breath. “I know you do, honey,” I say softly. “I know you do.”

“What is it about you that makes me want to be close to you?” he marvels in a low voice. His thumb rubs gently against my neck. “Why do I want to touch you so badly when I haven’t wanted to touch anyone in years?”

“I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve whatever could happen between us.” I want to object, but he continues before I get a chance. “But there’s something I want more than my self-loathing for wanting something I shouldn’t.” “What?” I rasp. “A chance to know what it feels like to kiss you.”

His words hit me in the chest and the pain of it is staggering. I know I have no right to feel this way, but I wish so much this man would let me be there for him. I want to help make him better, even if only for a few minutes. I wish he would open up to me and tell me how he feels, so I can find a way to help him. I know there’s nothing I can do to take away his pain, but if I could relieve it even just a fraction, it might help.

We’ll never forget the ones we love, they’ll be with us always, but we need to learn to live without them, to not let the pain of their loss rule our lives. Alexander hasn’t been grieving, he’s been living in his pain all these years. He’s not learning to move on, he’s staying in place and immersing himself in guilt.

Kelsey’s next words cause my heart to slam in my chest painfully. “Please don’t tell my mom I’m talking,” she says, lifting her head and pleading with her eyes. “Why?” He tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. She drops her eyes to the floor and murmurs so low I barely hear her. “Because it’s my fault my daddy died.” Alexander and I both jerk. I grip the doorjamb to keep myself from falling. I’ve always known she blames herself, but to hear her actually say it, hurts so much worse. I watch as Alexander turns to Kelsey and grabs her chin to force her to look at him. “Why would you think it’s your fault, Kelsey?” Her voice is a tearful whisper, and I have to lean closer to hear her. “Because I made him go get my bear and that’s when he died.” “Sweetie, it wasn’t your fault,” Alexander says, his voice strained. “You were six years old. There was no way you could know that would happen. Even your mom and dad didn’t know it would happen.” She looks at him with tears flooding down her face, and my heart feels like it’s being beaten with a bat coated in spikes. “But maybe if I hadn’t—” He doesn’t let her finish. “No, honey. It still would have happened.”

I watched her crawl to her knees, I’d think she just added onto the old one, but this prayer is all on its own. The new one is even more heartbreaking than the old. “Please, God, help make Alexander better,” she whispers, her hands

clasped in front of her. “Please don’t make him hurt anymore. I really like him, and I know my mama and brother like him too. I wish he could be with us always. And please let his wife and baby be okay in heaven with you.” She pauses before finishing. “In Jesus’ name, amen.”

Love isn’t a strong enough word for what I feel for Gwen. It doesn’t even come close. What I feel for her is soul-deep and everlasting, a feeling that scares the ever-lovin’ hell out of me, but something I can’t deny any longer and will hold on to forever.