Black Russians for Pepere

This past Wednesday (the 9th) was a day I honor with a little tradition–actually it’s my mom’s tradition, that I adopted as I got older. I drink a Black Russian.

I have a memory from when I was young, just under twelve, of my Pepere drinking this, his favorite cocktail. I had asked what it was, and after hearing the ingredients, decided that I probably wouldn’t like it. It seemed pretty intense to not only drink syrupy black coffee, but to add in vodka–not tasty. I’m a bit of a pussy when it comes to mixed drinks, and seemingly have been even from before ever tasting one. He told me that I’d probably like a White Russian instead, when I was older. He was right. And I truly would have loved to have gotten the opportunity to drink my pussified version of his favorite drink with him as we conversed about life.

My Pepere is my hero, not because of the drink, but because he’s managed to remain a solid figure in my life even though he passed away sixteen years ago. It turns out that I admired him so much that I fell in love with someone similar. He either influenced my ideals when it comes to men, or it’s just an interesting coincidence. I was only twelve when he passed; my memories are young. But I do remember his intelligence, his questioning and inquisitive nature, his love for classical music and literature, his evening glass of red wine, and his love for learning. All traits that I can say about my husband as well.

So, the other night my husband and I toasted to my beloved Pepere with Black Russians, in peanut butter jars (we use these for everything and we had to take our drinks to-go from my mom’s due to Fae’s nap). I then added in some milk–so I guess the tradition is toasting with a Black Russian–and I reflected with my tasty drink on how incredibly lucky I am to have had my Pepere, and to now have my husband.

Here’s Jared and me on my 27th birthday, a few days before I became pregnant (getting pregnant was my birthday wish by the way).

Fae is clung onto me like a baby monkey, and now she’s playing her peek-a-boo game with Daddy behind my back. This is the funnest game ever for her.

2 responses to “Black Russians for Pepere

  1. Pingback: Glass Peanut Butter Jars | Going Coverless·

  2. Pingback: Serenity with the Spring | Naiad And The Moon Of·

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