I know many of you are hoping for a grand acknowledgment of the first text that was sent to Eomma, but the reality is that I simply do not remember it.
Unfortunately, the messages stored in KakaoTalk only go back to after my first visit to Korea.
But before we jump ahead to my first trip back to my motherland, let’s go back just a little.
These reflections are my stories of the events that led up to my reunion with my Eomma. I apologize to my readers for not remembering every specific detail, but during that time, my brain was literally running on adrenaline.
Maybe I said hello.
Maybe I introduced myself as her son.
Maybe I tried to keep it simple because I was afraid of saying too much.
What I remember most, however, is not the sentence itself.
I remember the weight of sending it.
I remember staring at the screen, knowing that one small message carried thirty-seven years of silence, questions, fear, and hope.
This was not just a text.
It was the first time I reached across the distance between us and said, in whatever words I could find:
“I am here. I found you. I hope you still want to know me.”
Then I waited…
That “1” again.
How long would I have to wait for a response this time?
At that moment, all I could focus on was the feeling in my chest—the anxiousness and the happiness all at once.
And then…
The “1” disappeared.
“Oh… she read it.”
“She read the message.”
“Is this really happening?”
At the time, KakaoTalk didn’t have a typing indicator to show when someone was writing a reply. So I simply sat there and waited.
Then the message came.
“Hello, Jong Yoon. I feel so overwhelmed… my heart feels like it’s going to burst.”
The words may not be exactly the way I remember them, but what I can tell you is the feeling I had when I saw that first message.
People often ask what my mother’s first message said, but the truth is that after thirty-seven years of waiting, the exact words have become less important than what they meant.
For the first time in my life, I wasn’t wondering if my mother was out there somewhere.
She was.
She had answered.
The silence that had followed me since childhood had finally been broken.
That first reply wasn’t just another message on my phone.
It was proof that the story I had carried in my heart for so many years wasn’t over.
I may not remember every sentence she wrote, but I will never forget how that moment changed my life.
That day, we reconnected—mother and son—something I never thought would happen in my lifetime.
For the rest of the day, we continued texting, learning about one another and rediscovering the lives we had missed over the past thirty-seven years.
Eomma wanted to know how I was.
If I was healthy.
If I had a family.
And perhaps most importantly, she wanted to know if I still carried feelings of betrayal or anger toward her.
I told her I held no such feelings.
All I had ever wanted was the opportunity to reconnect and reunite with my birth mother.
Over the next several days, we continued chatting through KakaoTalk.
As our conversations became more frequent, I realized something.
I wanted to see Eomma’s face.
Yes, I had seen the photographs that Holt had sent me, but they were blurry and difficult to make out.
I wanted to see her.
Not in a photograph.
I wanted to see my Eomma over a video call.
One evening, I asked if we could video chat.
Although she was working that night, she said she would find some time so we could talk face-to-face.
My heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest.
This was going to be the first time I would see my mother looking back at me…
The first time I would hear her voice in thirty-seven years.
Honestly, I didn’t know much about KakaoTalk video calls.
I figured it couldn’t be that difficult.
You just press the camera button… right?
When Eomma messaged me later that evening and said it was time, I knew this was another milestone.
Was I really ready?
What would I say?
What would she understand?
She didn’t even speak English.
Wait…
Wait…
I didn’t think this through.
Then my phone began to ring.
A KakaoTalk video call.
Wait…
How are we going to communicate?
We’ve been relying on the translation feature in KakaoTalk.
I’m not prepared for this.
Should I answer?
Should I decline the call?
I honestly didn’t know what to do…