One special holiday memory is etched in my mind so clearly that, as I close my eyes, it seems like it happened yesterday.
The year was 1992, toward the end of November. I got a call from a social worker from San Jose, Calif. She told me that my daughter I gave up for adoption in 1963 was looking for me. When I heard the news my knees buckled. I couldn't believe it.
I had dreamed about finding my daughter for 29 years. Every year that passed, I would wonder if she was happy. I wondered how she did in school. Every time I saw a young blonde girl, I would break into tears.
The social worker gave me my daughter's phone number. I had to wait all day until about 7 in the evening to call her. I was on cloud nine. I kept pinching myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. The time came to call her. When I heard her voice it was like hearing my own voice.
As we talked on the phone, my heart was racing. I still couldn't believe I was actually talking to my daughter. Susan told me all about her life and how she was raised and how she did in school. She also told me she had a very happy childhood. In fact, her adoptive mom helped her find me. We talked for four hours.
When I got off the phone talking to Susan, I felt a rush of happiness. It was so good to finally feel happy again. Gone was the feeling of melancholy. Gone was the feeling of grieving. Gone was the feeling of suppressing my feelings.
Then a few nights before Christmas, Susan called me to wish me a Merry Christmas. We talked for hours. When I got off the phone, it really sank in that my dream had come true. I always knew in my heart that somehow, some way, someday, I would find my daughter.
A wise man once said, "You will never find peace until all the pieces are together."
I felt so peaceful. It was like all the pieces of the puzzle were finally together.
• Donna Batis-Wungnema is from Carson City.