Guest Post Life Storms

How Advent Subdues Longing

I find him swaddled in white blankets, his hospital bed pushed against a wall in a narrow stretch of hallway. My cinnamon-skinned father is almost 70. His hair sea-salt white; mustache peppered grey.

It’s his penchant for sweets that lands him in this over-crowded emergency room. He’s a stubborn diabetic refusing to make medicine a daily ritual. He sneaks off to the corner bodega for powdered donuts and gulps of orange juice. Falling into a diabetic coma doesn’t faze him.

A nurse rouses him for his meds. He offers me a sheepish grin when he realizes I’m there. “Nurse, this is my long-lost daughter.”

At three, my parents divorced, and it took years for my father and I to reconnect.

“You feeling okay?” I ask.

“Better now,” he replies, but I sense an undertone of false bravado.

Maybe, when my father dreams, he becomes the brawny man he used to be, living a life of carousing in his native Puerto Rico, eating and drinking whatever he pleases.

I stand guard until he dozes off. After, I make my way through New York City’s Murray Hill neighborhood. The East River wind chills me to the bone but awakens my hunger.

Join me at The Perennial Gen and be sure to subscribe to Michelle & Amanda’s website on growing deeper roots in the dirt and light of midlife. Click Here: The Perennial Gen.


Matt Lamers



  • carmen rose galan
    8 months ago

    Wow! I thought your dad would be upset but he took it very well, his daughter writing a truthful life that he is living…..

    • Jessica
      8 months ago

      He is stronger and healing, day by day!

what do you think?

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *