In Washington, DC...

A NIGHT of restless sleep plagued Colleen on April 9, 2014 – the eve of the long-awaited reunion with her Singapore family. Endless questions were on her mind: “What would they be like? Would they like me? Why hadn’t they looked for me all these years?”

For years, she had dreamt of this day, and she was anxious and excited all at once.

She tossed and turned and forced herself back to bed when she woke at 3am and again at 5am.

But at 6.30am, defeated by her futile attempts to sleep, she got up, got dressed and deflated her airbed to make space in her room in Washington, DC where the video call would take place.

It was just 90 minutes till the planned call – where she would meet 10 members of her Singapore family – but the minutes seemed to drag on.

She put on a conservative white patterned shirt, and pulled her hair back into a sleek, neat ponytail.

What would they be like? Would they like me? Why hadn’t they looked for me all these years?

∼ Colleen, on her apprehension about meeting her Singapore relatives

“I want them to like me,” she thought to herself. She wished she knew more about Singapore culture and could do the right things to show respect to her aunts and uncles who would be on the call.

Having relatives in Singapore was a foreign concept for Colleen. She did not even know where her own Singaporean mother’s remains were until a few days earlier when her relatives gave a photo of her mother’s niche through The Straits Times journalists coordinating the reunion.

The name engraved in stone was Lee Kui Yin Turzynski – the woman she had always loved but knew so little about.

Colleen set up two chairs in the room where the call would take place – one for herself and one for Judy Harrison, her former sign language teacher she was staying with while she applied for a place at the university.

Colleen sat in front of the desktop computer, tense and quiet, occasionally straightening her shirt or neatening her hair.

Her usual warm smile was replaced by a pensive expression.

It was 8am. Why had they not called yet?

This thought was interrupted by a ringing sound. She nervously moved the mouse to click “accept”.

Ten faces appeared on the screen in front of her. In the foreground were her second uncle Pheng Nyen, 72, second aunt Say Moi, 66, and third uncle Tak Nyen, 70. Behind them were her cousins and their children.

She could not hear the chorus of “Hi” and “Hi Colleen”, but she saw them waving and smiling and she immediately broke down.

She let out a short wail, releasing years of yearning and pain, and let the tears flow.

Smiling and crying, she waved back at her family, tissue in hand.

Colleen meeting her Singaporean family for the first time via a Skype video call on April 10, 2014. With her is Judy Harrison, her former sign language teacher.

She had found them.

Although there were language barriers – sign language had to be translated to English and then to Mandarin – the family was determined to find out more about Colleen.

Tak Nyen started out reading a letter he had drafted to her, expressing how he was relieved to hear from her after 24 years. “All these years, how have you been?” he asked in Mandarin.

He wanted to continue, but was stopped as what he said had to be translated.

Colleen told her family about growing up in Poland, studying for her bachelor’s degree in social work and a master’s in financial management, and finally moving to the US.

The conversation moved to where she was living, whether she had enough funds to support herself, and – in true Singaporean fashion – a question on whether she had a boyfriend.

She said she was hoping to apply for school in Washington, DC but was living with her foster parents in New Jersey. As for living expenses, she was receiving benefits from the US government.

And no, she did not have a boyfriend, she said, laughing.

Colleen communicating with her Singapore relatives via Skype. Helping her is Judy, her former sign language teacher.

The conversation lasted 45 minutes, with the family asking most of the questions and Colleen doing most of the answering.

Only towards the end of the conversation did she ask a question that had bothered her for years: “I’m curious why we haven’t been in contact all this time. I was worried you had forgotten about me. I worry about that all the time.”

Her uncle and aunt quickly reassured her that they had tried looking for her and had approached the Singapore embassy in the US but their efforts had drawn a blank.

There was just so much for her to process.

She told The Straits Times: “I realised that how I felt all those times of not being in contact with them when we were growing up, not seeing each other, not knowing each other – that felt bad and just made me cry. But then the more I saw them, the better I felt.”

Explaining why she did not ask her family more questions, she said: “I felt a little shy and I didn’t know what to say, but my uncle, he tried to use some sign language with me, I just felt connected with my uncle. Seeing everyone in the family, I felt connected with them.”

That day, she spent the afternoon walking the streets of Washington, processing the fact that she had finally found her Singapore relatives.

She would like to visit Singapore by Chinese New Year in 2015 or even earlier if her finances and school term permit.

Smiling with relief, she said: “I want to go to Singapore, I need to learn the English language, and I want to learn Mandarin and study more words so I have better communication with my family.”

Her visit would also allow her to visit her mother’s final resting place.

“I can communicate with my mum, have a chat with her and be close to where my mum’s body is. I’ve always felt so separated from her and now I can feel close to her again.”

In Singapore...

TEN eager faces crowded around a laptop screen, waiting for the call to connect.

The time: 8pm in Singapore, three days after Colleen’s story was first published in The Straits Times.

The sense of anticipation was infectious, as family members discussed what they were going to say. One of them, Colleen’s uncle Tak Nyen, had even prepared a speech because he was “too nervous” over their first virtual meeting.

Despite this, compromises already had to be made on both ends – just like close-knit families are wont to do.

A Skype call was hurriedly arranged the day after The Straits Times met the Lee family for the first time, because Colleen could not reschedule the meeting as she had plans to travel.

To be present for the Skype call, aunt Say Moi, 66, missed the funeral rituals of her husband’s relative.

Then, the time of the call was set at 8pm instead of 9.45pm (9.45am in the US) as initially proposed by Colleen, because the elderly Lee siblings lived apart and found the late timing inconvenient.

In addition, a daunting communication barrier loomed.

Colleen’s aunts and uncles were conversant only in Mandarin.

Messages would have to be translated first into English through Karen Lee, 33, Tak Nyen’s daughter-in-law.

Then, an interpreter in the US would pass the message on to Colleen via sign language.

Colleen’s messages to them would have to go through the same process of sign language and translations.

But all these concerns vanished the moment the call connected, and they saw a grown-up Colleen for the first time.

Colleen’s Singapore relatives were overwhelmed with emotions in the Skype reunion on April 10, 2014. Colleen’s cousin Lee Khim Hou’s wife, Karen (left), introduced the family members to Colleen. Seated in front of the laptop were her aunt, Lee Say Moi; and uncles Lee Tak Nyen and Lee Pheng Nyen. Others, from left, were uncle Pheng Nyen’s wife, Thoo Ah Moy (partially hidden); cousins Lee Chin Fei and Lee Khim Hou, carrying his daughter Jen Ee; and uncle Tak Nyen’s wife, Liow Ah Moy, with Jon Ee, Lee Khim Hou’s son.

There was hardly a dry eye among them.

The call was riddled with pregnant pauses at times, while at others, the family members were so eager to convey their thoughts to Colleen that they talked over one another.

At one point, they had to be reminded by the interpreter to slow down.

At the end of the 45-minute call, Say Moi spoke of her “indescribable happiness”.

She said of Colleen: “She really takes after her mother. She’s very independent, and she’s very smart.”

Colleen’s uncle Tak Nyen giving a thumbs up to his niece for becoming the strong, independent woman that she is today.