Our daughter is the brave, bold woman that I once thought I was. She turned thirty a few weeks ago, and after much introspection, she quit her job in the hard cider industry–a career she had not foreseen but that flourished over the past eight years or so. That career took her across the country, to Washington State. But she told her dad and me that she felt she had not much more room for growth in the current job, and she wanted to try something new, something she felt passionate about, while she still had minimal personal and financial responsibilities. Of course, as her near-to-retirement parents, we are thinking pragmatically. “Will she be able to continue to fund her IRA? Will she have health insurance? Will she ever have enough money for a down payment on a house?” And then I hear her grandmother’s voice, “Will she ever move back to Virginia so that she can take care of you in your old age?”

Even as I write this, I am watching her flight progress across America on the airline’s website. Tonight, she arrives in Indianapolis to hang out with her aunt and uncle, and tomorrow she begins her new job, which initially will involve several weeks of travel throughout the USA and Canada. The details about this new job are her story to tell, so I won’t be saying more, for now. At her age, I was a wife of four years, a stay-at-home mom to a toddler, and a co-signer on a mortgage. I think the thirty-year-old me would be baffled at Daughter’s decisions, but also secretly jealous of her adventures-to-come. The sixty-plus-year-old me is somewhat envious of her adventures-to-come, but not at all baffled that the strong woman we know and love is making a life change.

Above all else, we are proud of Baby Girl, and we always keep her oh-so-close in our hearts.

Today’s cocktail is a combination I tried for the first time, and I liked it. This was also a great way to use the soft kiwis I found in the back of the refrigerator. In a blender, puree 2 peeled kiwis with 1/2 ounce fresh-squeezed lime juice, 1 1/2 ounces simple syrup, and 1 1/2 ounces gin. Strain, if desired. (I like the crunchy texture of kiwi seeds so I didn’t strain it.) Pour into a glass and top with 4 to 6 ounces of chilled watermelon-flavored sparkling water. Stir gently, so some bubbles remain.

Today would have been my mother’s 98th birthday. We lost her–well, we lost her physical presence with us here on Earth but I still hear her voice in my head every day–in April of this year. My sister and I were convinced that Mama was stubborn enough to hold on until her 100th birthday, but Mama was tired.

I’ve been thinking about her longevity, and wondering if I could be happy with thirty-plus years of being retired. If my health and my money last, maybe I could be. And I should probably re-evaluate some of my current life-style choices, like eating too much ice cream and having too many cocktails.

Mama rarely drank alcohol, but when she did, she liked sweet cordials and fruity wines. She also enjoyed meads made in Poland (known as miód pitny, “honey drinkable” in direct translation) which would come in glazed brown ceramic karafes that she would save to decorate the kitchen.

Today’s cocktail, therefore, uses spiced mead made locally (Black Heath Meadery in Richmond), since I wouldn’t know where to find the Polish product. In the prettiest glass you have, combine 1 teaspoon honey with 1 ounce rye whiskey. Stir until honey is mostly dissolved. Add 2 1/2 ounces of spiced mead, stir gently, and garnish with a lemon slice and maybe a chunk of candied ginger. No ice is needed, because it’s almost winter and cold drinks will give you a chill that may get you sick, as Mama would say.

I asked my children to write a few words about my mom, and this is part of what my daughter wrote: “Between our connection of art and your influence on our Polish culture, you helped shape me into the woman I am today, and I am forever grateful for that. Your presence will never be forgotten, and I’m proud to have called you my grandmother. May you live in eternal peace! Love you so much!” Perfect. Happy Birthday, Mama.