Are you there, God?
It’s me.
I’d like to know
If there’s a prayer
For the strong?
You see, I’m strong.
I know I’m strong
Because all day
I go from house to house
And I sit at tables
And people tell me
What a wonderful person
My husband was
And they offer me coffee
Good coffee
Gourmet
The kind you get
As part of a subscription service
Where every month
It’s Peru or Argentina
And when you make it
The whole house fills up
With that potent roasted smell
That makes you feel
Taken care of
These people
In these houses
They take care of me
We sit and they take my hands
And we pray
And they cry
And I do not
And because I sit there
And because I do not cry
They say to me
They say--
‘You are so strong’
But I need a prayer
And so here I am
Asking
If there is a prayer
For the strong
Because we know
What the weak need
They need our prayers
But is it possible
That the strong
Need our prayers as well?
When I lost Ernie
People used to beg me
To cry in public
Oh, they didn’t come right out
And beg with their words
But with their eyes
With the way they’d grip me
Hold me
Embrace me
Their perfume assaulting me
Their cologne infiltrating my nostrils
Letting me know they took out the fancy fragrances
Just for me
To let me know
How important I am to them
And how much my loss
Means to them
They came to the wake
And they gathered me up
Like a child gathering up her dolls
Not wanting to let any of them go
And they never put me down
They just held me
And as they were holding me
They said “It’s going to be okay”
And I don’t know
If they really knew
What that meant
What “Okay” can mean
To a woman who has lost the man
She’s spent more than forty years
Of her life with
What can “Okay” mean
To a person like that?
In that situation?
As the ashes of her husband
Sits in an silver urn
With a small engraving
That says “I’ll be seeing you”
That night, back at home
Alone for the first time
Since I was twenty-years-old
I went outside
And I looked at the moon
And I tried to say a prayer
But a prayer to who?
And for what purpose?
My husband was at peace
After a prolonged battle
With a disease that took
Everything from him
But his integrity
Did he lose his dignity?
What is dignity?
Integrity are photos of your children
Integrity lives in your bones
It exists in the walls of the house
You spent your life paying for
So that your wife could try to sleep
Knowing that nothing was due
And nothing was overlooked
My husband was fastidious
And he had no time for religion
So if I went to church
I went home
And when I got back
We would go to the casino
And he would have me blow on dice
And sometimes he’d win
And when he did
He’d call me his lucky charm
And he’d buy me a steak at the steakhouse
And we’d both have beers
And act like teenagers
Because when I was fourteen
I lost my mother in a car accident
And when he was sixteen
He lost his father to a heart attack
And when you lose your parents that young
You lose your youth as well
So we tried to get it back
Whenever we could
However we could
And if he made a big bet
I would say a small prayer
But when we lost
I didn’t cry
And when my father woke me up
In the middle of the night
Two days before my fifteenth birthday
To tell me my mother was gone
I didn’t cry
And when I miscarried the first child
Ernie and I were going to have
I didn’t cry
And I remember my sister
Over the phone with me
Getting choked up
And telling me
That I would be fine
Because I was so strong
And that she would say a prayer for me
And I tried to imagine
What kind of prayer that could be
A Prayer for the Strong
Do the strong even need
A prayer?
God, I need a prayer
Because everyone’s gone home
The cakes and cookies
Are in the refrigerator
Enjoying the low hum
That sounds so loud
Now that I’m alone in the house
My kids will call tomorrow
And when they hear
That I sound the same
They’ll feel better
And they’ll keep feeling better
And I’ll keep showing up
To birthday parties and holidays
With my hair done
And my make-up done
And a smile on my face
So my grandkids don’t ask
Why grandma is sad
My daughter-in-law
And my son-in-law
And my children
Will all think to themselves
That I’m strong
And if they pray
They’ll say a prayer of thanks
That they were given
Such a fortified matriarch
And they’ll wonder to themselves
If they’ll be strong
When the clock strikes for them
The way it has for me
And I hope they are
I pray that they are
But I need a prayer now
Not to stay strong
Because to be honest
There are times
Many times
When I resent
Being strong
Because being strong
Sometimes feels
Like being invisible
When people see
That they don’t need
To worry about you
They find someone else
To worry about
And the warmth of their concern
Is bestowed upon someone else
And you’re left
In the shadow of their relief
Ernie had a problem with drinking
For a few years
Early on in our marriage
And I never noticed
Because he was never late for work
And he shaved everyday
I didn’t think I needed to worry
Because Ernie was on time
Because Ernie’s cheek was smooth
When I kissed it every morning
Before sending him off
To an office
In the city
To a job he hated
Where he would take spiked sips
From a thermos
He kept in his desk drawer
I didn’t pray for Ernie
Until the night he broke down
Sitting on our bed
Because I cleaned the bathroom
And accidentally threw out his razor
And so he couldn’t shave
And if he couldn’t shave
He thought I would see it
I would see
That he was no longer strong
That night I took his hands
And they shook
They shook so violently
It felt like a test
Could I hold them long enough
To finish a prayer
My Ernie was strong
But he needed me
And he needed my prayers
And I live with guilt
Every single day
That I only started praying
When I saw those hands shaking
When I saw the strength leaving him
Because the strength had become a burden
Because it meant that you were alone
When you’re weak
Someone will find you
Someone will help you
Someone will take pity on you
Who finds you when you’re strong?
Who says “Let go of all that strength?”
Who says “I’ll be strong for you?”
God, I need a prayer
A Prayer for the Strong
That begins with a witness
And ends with an epiphany
That perhaps the strong
Are strong
Because we know
That our strength
Is all we’ll be given
In this life
It’s all we’ll have
And all we’ll have
To believe in
Standing like an island
Surrounded by weakness
Scared to step into it
Knowing we’ll be torn apart
By those who need
What we have
And almost wanting to
Almost wanting
To step into it
So we can just
Be cared for
And worried about
And experience
The concern of others
Feel all that strength
Leave us
And then say--
Amen
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11 comments
Holy cow, I wish I'd seen this before I submitted my last-minute story this week. I could've saved myself an extra $5! I've been on this site for a few months now, and, man. This was completely unlike anything I've seen here. The format was fresh and creative, the narrator's voice was strong, and the content of the story was fantastic and emotional. Perfect title too. Repetition is my guilty pleasure in fiction, and seeing the phrase "Prayer For the Strong" pop up every now and then was great, like a refrain in a hymn. Wouldn't be shocked t...
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Looks like we're both out $5!!!!
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Thank you so much, Zack. I really appreciate it.
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You've literally done something I've always wanted to do and never have, which is write a short story in verse. It was such an interesting read to be forced to read this story slowly and take it in differently. I always find that verses force the reader to take more time to read and think. Really cool take on the prompt, Kevin!
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Thank you so much!
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Kevin, this is gorgeous and heartfelt. The short phrases really do read like a prayer (or poem) and I have always loved this form of prose. I can't wait to read what you submit next, I will be keeping an eye on your work!
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Thank you very much, Hannah.
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Dang. This is awesome. The formatting is so unique, I haven't seen anything like it from my time on Reedsy, and I love it. We get such a beautiful story here told in just short, simple phrases. You manage to capture one persons experience with these short phrases. The rhythm is amazing as well. This piece has a heartbeat that pulls the reader along every word. This is beautiful. Amazing job.
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Thank you so much.
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Kevin. Bravo my friend. What a way to hit that 70th story mark with such a beautiful narrative prose. This isn't like anything I've ever read of yours, and I commend you on a job well done. I think because it's so the opposite of your refined humor, or nuanced and rich pieces this hits me differently. In a way that I kind of sigh out in relief, like "Oh, there he is. Look how he did that." This is how it's done. You sneak attacked us Kevin. Well done.
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Thank you. It's so interesting because the people who know me as a playwright know this is more in line with the structure and tone I usually use in my plays, so it's been so useful exploring another side of myself here, but then trying to combine what I've learned from all of you and bring what I do as a playwright into it.
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