On a Monday, in June of 1988, my telephone rang; as I was walking past and automatically I reached out and picked it up. Which was surprising, as I never answered the phone. After the initial hello, the woman caller started asking me questions concerning my early life. Then, with a jolt, I realized what she was leading up to and said out loud, "Oh my God, she's found me."

And she had. The daughter I had given up for adoption over 42 years ago was trying to contact me. After a few minutes more of conversation with the woman my daughter had had call me, I asked for her telephone number and said I would call her back in a few days, to which she was agreeable. I needed time to pull my emotions together and to think, to which she was agreeable.  

I had a major problem. I had told my husband, before we were married that I had had a child whom, at the insistence of my mother I had given up for adoption. I could not enter into the marriage without telling him. I think I was hoping he would say, "Well, let's go see about getting the baby back." But no such luck. He, to state it simply, accepted the fact and was glad that I had told him, but I was never to mention it again. And he promised not to remind me in the future of my loss in the future. A hell of a promise, but I accepted it. He never knew if the baby was a boy or a girl. At this point I had given up all hope of getting my baby back, and just wanted to get out of the state of Texas.

We had both kept our promise up to the date of this telephone call. Even afterwards he never knew. What a dilemma I now faced. A war was going on in my mind.  

I knew there was no way I was going to give Katherine Ann up again. Deep in my heart I had known she was looking for me and that it was only a matter of time before she found me. Now that glorious day had arrived. A few days later I drove to the nearest town and placed the long distance call to Texas.

My heart was beating in triple time. I was given Kathy's full name, address and telephone number. I then asked that the lady contact Kathy and ask her not to write or try and call me until I could figure out a way we could maintain contact, and I could still keep my word to my husband. And that's what we did.

I swear, there were so many restrictions I placed on her, it's a wonder she even wanted to keep in contact with me. Thank God she understood and so my new, rejuvenated, life began.

It was wonderful. It was amazing how much our likes and dislikes paralleled. I learned I had three additional grandchildren and one great-granddaughter. My gosh, my cup truly did runneth over.

We wrote back and forth for a year. I even managed to make a talking letter (on cassette tape) for her, as she wanted to hear my voice. That was hard to do. Not what I said, but the talking into a little mic with no comeback. And it was a 90-minute tape. Try it sometime. You'll be surprised how many blank seconds and minutes you can have. Your mind just seems to go blank. But by the time you flip the tape over, you feel like an old hand and the talking gets easier. Kathy still has the tape, can you believe it? I still feel that my voice sounds terrible on tape but since, at this time, we still couldn't talk directly on the telephone, that this was the only way she could hear my voice.

After writing each other for about a year, we were getting to know each other really well and becoming the very best of friends.

My husband passed away in July of 1989 releasing me from my obligation to him. I still had not shared Kathy's existence to anyone in the family. But, the Sunday following the funeral, I picked up the telephone and called my friend, my love, my daughter Katherine Ann.

What a moment it was. She answered the phone and I said, "Kathy, this is your mother from Michigan calling." There was silence for a few moments. Then the walls came tumbling down, and we both tried to talk at once. A new beginning in my life, a new awakening.

I was in a depressed mood; plus, not in good health. Katherine changed all of this into a brighter outlook on life and I loved it. From then on we still wrote letters, but the telephone calls became more frequent. So many calls that I'm sure AT&T just loved us. We really burnt up the wires more and more as time went by.

One day I happened to mention I was trying to arrange a trip up to northern Michigan, but was having a problem. My family would not let me drive that distance alone. Everyone, family and friends, was working, so I was stumped for the moment. Imagine my surprise when she suggested that she come to Michigan and help with the driving. Also we could get acquainted personally with each other. Wow, what a phone call.

We made the plans and she was set to arrive on July 19, 1990.

As the days trickled by to our day of meeting, all kinds of doubts, worries, questions and what have you, ran through my mind, as I'm sure they did through hers. It was like a time bomb just ticking away.

I should explain my living arrangements a little. I lived in an old house, in a small town, with two of my grandchildren and a small puppy, Patches. Two very loving grandchildren who allowed me to share their lives. They watched over me, did small and large chores, and I was there for them if they needed me. I still hadn't told them anything, only that an old friend's daughter from Texas was coming to visit and drive with me to upper Michigan.

I insisted on going to the airport alone. This was to be our moment and we didn't need any distractions.

Nervous does not begin to describe my feeling as I left the house to meet her. You hear all the questions in your mind; "Will she like me? Will I like her? What happens if we take an instant dislike to each other?"

Oh what turmoil churned through me. Until finally I was there at the airport, waiting. She arrived about 12:30 in the afternoon. The plane was on time and there through the doors came my long lost daughter smiling, beautiful and huggable. Which we did. Hugged and hugged and hugged some more. We weren't aware of anyone or anything around us. It was beautiful.

We finally left the airport. I think I drove. Well I know I did, but how we ever got to the motel where I had rented a room, I don't remember. We had even picked up a barrel of chicken somewhere. So many thoughts, feelings and memories all churning to be released, and slowly we began.

I couldn't understand why she held no resentment or anger at my having given her up for adoption. It turned out that over the years of searching, after many outright refusals from some people, doors slammed by others, and friends and some relatives telling her over and over to "Give it up Kathy, you're only asking for trouble," she had received papers and documents, explaining the circumstances. She knew it had not been my wish to do so. It had taken her the better part of 25 years to get her there that day. Besides she said she always knew in her heart that I loved her. So we laughed together and cried together and several times started to say the same things together. We sure hugged a lot. I never was what you would call a hugger, but I found I liked it. Makes you feel good. You can't argue when you're hugging. More people should try it; you'll like it.

The next morning we started our long drive to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan where my oldest son Jerry lived in Calumet.

We were getting along famously now. She told me about her life and my three grandchildren and now two great-grandchildren. And I in turn told her about her half-brother and -sister and their children. When we arrived at Jerry's home, I told him and his wife, Margie that she was a distant cousin of my family. I still didn't feel free enough to tell them the truth. I found out later that they both wondered about it as the resemblance between us was uncanny, even some of our mannerisms were alike.

We all took a trip up to Copper Harbor, the northern Tip of Michigan. It's beautiful country up there. We also took a short fishing trip. Short because it was to cold, but we had a great time anyway. Especially when we had Kathy looking for the great white fresh water shark. Don't know if she will ever forgive us for that one.

We stayed there a few days and then started a leisurely drive home. We drove back over the beautiful Mackinaw Bridge.

Up until this time I had not planned to take Kathy to my house. My grandchildren were there. But the longer I thought about it, the more determined I became to take her home. So…we drove to my home and again she was introduced as a distant relative. I later found out, here too, we really didn't fool anybody. I was just too chicken, or whatever you'd want to call it, to even then, admit the truth.

I did eventually but that is another story. This one is about our first meeting after so many years.

I drove her around our small town and the surrounding countryside, where she took pictures of everything. She even taught me how to take good pictures.

Mostly, we stayed at my house and talked and talked. About everything from soup to nuts and then some.

The closer it got to the time for her departure, the more depressed we became; and we both tried to think of ways to delay her leaving. But of course we couldn't.

I'll never forget that day as long as I live. I remember looking out from the airport observation room, seeing her trudge out to the plane with a bag in each hand, head down, and I know crying. I know, because I was crying too. I don't know why I didn't just run down and stop her or join her. I could have but just didn’t' think to do it at the time.

So my heart took off for Texas; and I went home. Crying all the way. But then I took time to thank God for allowing us to be rejoined in my lifetime. I knew we would be together again in the near future.

I can only hope that other adoptee's will continue their search for their birth parents as Kathy did and have such happy results. I know that every once in a while I thought about searching for her but knew it was impossible at the time. Her diligence paid off for both of us. We're now complete and happy in this our new beginning.