At age 82, my mother is confined to a wheelchair and needs help with daily tasks, while my nine-year-old daughter, Eleni, begs for more independence. But the two main girls in my life share one desire: that I, a 50-year-old single parent, get married.
My mother has held this not-so-secret longing for years. She routinely asks about my social life and for years has kept an eye out for eligible bachelors (and suitable reception halls). Recently, when an 80-something man at her senior center asked me, “Are you married?” her face lit up with expectation — and possibility! My mom was wed happily for 52 years. She sees marriage as a source of love and stability, and she wants me to experience these comforts, too.
Eleni, on the other hand, has her own motives for marrying me off. Ever since she was little, my daughter has begged for a pet kitty, doggie, or goldfish, only to hear, “Someday, honey.” So, for the moment, Eleni has put her pet campaign on hold and moved on to bigger things. The other day, for instance, Eleni asked whether I’d ever be having a baby or adopting more kids. When I said, “Probably not,” she replied, “Then I think you should get married.”
In Eleni’s mind, my future husband would have two daughters, preferably between the ages of six and 14. And perhaps a dog or two, so the pets could keep each other company. (My husband would be my buddy, so we’d all have someone to play with.) We’d live in a big house, with a wraparound porch and flat-screen TVs. And if anything bad happened in the world — like if people started kidnapping lots of children, “Mommy — we’d all be there to protect each other.”
As Eleni spun her tale, I had to laugh, but her words struck a chord. Like my mother, Eleni was asking (albeit in a nine-year-old way) whether we might expand our family, and create a larger web of love, protection, and stability. Though I was taken off-guard, I admit that her desires are perfectly normal and not so far removed from my own.
When I decided to adopt Eleni, as a single woman, I had my trepidations, but I moved forward because of a deep yearning to mother. Parenting Eleni alone has been both a joy and a luxury, countless hours spent together without interruption.
But sometimes — particularly now, as she grows older and our extended family dwindles, I feel a void, a place where others might fit in. I might stand on the sidelines at her soccer game, for instance, when I’ll suddenly wish there were siblings, grandparents, or a dad to join with me in cheering Eleni on. Or I might read her report card, brimming with pride, when I’ll look around for someone to share it with.
In the years that Eleni’s been with me, she’s always given me cues as to what she wants and needs. Some desires are easy to fulfill (a pair of high-top sneakers, a hug), and others are harder (an autographed bat from Derek Jeter, a photo of her birth mom). Eleni’s latest appeal — for a father, sisters, house, and pets — seems lovely, though elusive. But I suspect that, if the two of us keep our eyes open wide, we may yet surprise my mother!
