be matched with someone simply because of a drop of blood from a bloodline which I know little of.”
“Jessica!”
“Mom, what if he turns out to be some freaky, cross-dressing, alcoholic behind closed doors? No thank you. We all know that not all fairy tale marriages end up… happily ever after.”
Her mother narrowed her eyes and pinched her lips.
“Jessica, you know I don’t have much time.”
“Mom….I…. I’m sorry, it’s just that…well…”
“Jess, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” Her mother sat down beside her at the kitchen table and fidgeted with the flowers on the table.
“No, Mom, you’re right. I know you want to see me happy and married well after…well…”
“After I go to be with the Lord.”
Jessica bit down on her lip. Her mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer two years ago and beat the dreadful disease. Well at least it was in remission until recently when she went for her usual six month check up with the oncologist.
Then, Jessica had her own scare. A few months ago while performing her monthly breast self-examination in the shower she felt a lump in her right breast which thankfully turned out to be a false alarm. This had terrified her and her mother. The oncologist told Jessica that her risk of breast cancer would be higher because her mother had breast cancer. The risk was even higher if a family member had breast cancer before age fifty. Her mother was forty-nine when first diagnosed years ago. Jessica knew how precious time was. How golden each and every day was. And how important it was to be happy with the choices one made because life was really short but it can also be sweet if a person was happy.
She wanted to see her mother happy, she really did. But she didn’t want to be guilt-led into an arranged marriage of all things. She didn’t want to end up miserable in a mismatched relationship. Again.
“It’s just that I feel as though you think I’m not capable of finding my own…spouse. I mean you and dad have tried to hook me up before, remember?”
It was Jessica’s turn to feel deflated now. The last thing she needed was to feel inadequate. Okay, so her ex-fiancé broke off with her and married her best friend instead. And the other guy she dated lived a double life. But she was okay with playing solo for a while. The world was not going to end if she didn’t marry by her thirtieth birthday.
“It’s just that since we found out about our ancestry...”
“I know, I know. Thanks to the wonderful Ancestry.com. I just think that arranged marriages are a little barbaric!”
“No they’re not, dear! The mistake people make is they think arranged marriages are forced marriages and that they are only exclusive to some cultures. Not so, my love. The British have been doing it for centuries. It certainly takes the stress off finding your husband.”
“But not the stress off living with a total stranger who may be the worse thing that happened to you if the match isn’t what you think it is. Besides, we’re in Canada, not England. And I’m only part British.”
“Jess! There’s nothing wrong with families who hold a position in society through wealth or inherited title who wish to marry into another family like them. Nothing at all. Statistics show that the divorce rate for arranged marriages are much lower than marriages of personal choice.”
Jessica sighed and listened.
“Some arranged marriages are about couples getting married based on compatibility or similar backgrounds who may not have otherwise met. It’s more of an introduction to a potential spouse. It doesn’t have to be, ‘you walk down the aisle or else.’”
“I know, Mom… I’ve also heard that parents on both sides ask the boy and girl respectively whether it is acceptable to them. They ask if they have any objection. That is what most arranged marriages are. There must be a clear acceptance