The family reunion of a lifetime:

The family reunion of a lifetime: After decades apart, an East Bethel shop owner finally met the daughter she gave up for adoption. Then she hired her.
Note: NORTH ONLY

She was 19 and, by her own admission, "young and foolish." A one-night stand left her pregnant. With no money and no plan, there would be no looking back. Kathy Pususta placed her infant daughter for adoption and then wondered if the hole in her heart might ever mend.

Kathy would eventually find her true soulmate and marry Tom Pususta. Together, they'd raise three kids, move from Minneapolis to rural East Bethel, and start a business out of their home, Shepherd's Choice.

But when she wasn't raising chicken and sheep, or producing homespun yarn and homemade soaps and cleaning products from old family recipes, Kathy wondered about the family member she never knew or heard from.

Ten years ago, she placed a certified letter and her daughter's original birth certificate with her daughter's adoption file in Hennepin County, revealing Kathy's identity and personal information to her daughter.

"I'd gone through a phase where I don't want to know, don't care, the whole anger phase," Nancy Holt, 36, recalled. "Then, when I was about 30, I thought maybe I should find out as much as I can, for nothing else but a health history that I can share with my kids."

After more than three decades apart and two weeks of gathering her nerves, Nancy Holt, the daughter Kathy Pususta could only dream about, made a phone call that changed her life. Today, she not only sees her birth mother, she works with her.

"It was like somebody wiped off a dirty window," said Holt, who makes soaps and moisturizers for Shepherd's Choice. "A lot of things about me became very clear."

Changing the law

If passed as law, a bill being considered by the Legislature could make life equally clear for other adoptees. The bill calls for reclassifying original birth records of adopted persons, requiring the Department of Health to prepare an affidavit of disclosure and nondisclosure forms of birth parents. Under certain conditions, the adoptees could obtain copies of birth records upon request.

Opposition to the bill stems from an argument that says women who placed children for adoption before 1977 were promised that their names would never be known, said Sen. Ann Rest, DFL-New Hope.

"Often, not having the original birth certificate was a way to protect the adopting parents," said Rest, one of the bill's authors. "We've come a long way," in terms of how society looks at single mothers.

Holt said that her parents, Elaine and Stuart Steinman of Mendota Heights, had told her what they could about her past, never hiding that she was adopted. Her father remains a mystery; he may not have known that she was born, Holt was told.

But Pususta had left her current address with the forms she was furnishing.

"She kept it up-to-date in the event that I'd want to find out," Holt said.

Cautious optimism

Holt was careful "not to dredge anything up" when she called her birth mother for the first time. She said she didn't want to find out "your mother wants nothing to do with you."

Hardly. The Pusustas -- Kathy, Tom and their children, Mariah, Zak and Micah -- drove to the northwestern Minnesota community of Greenbush and met Holt, her now ex-husband and children Miles, now 12, and Susanne, 10.

Suddenly, everything made sense.

"Growing up, I never fit in with my active family," Holt said. "I was outdoorsy, hated wearing makeup, hated wearing shoes. Kathy is like that also.

"She'll say things I can't believe she said because my parents would never talk that way. Her sense of humor baffles me. It's so much like mine."

Unexpected employment

Holt has since divorced and moved with her children to Pine City. She is engaged to be married to Mark Campeau, who works as a gunsmith for Gander Mountain in Blaine. She says they plan to live in Pine City, not the Twin Cities -- even though Holt has worked at Shepherd's Choice for a year.

"She needed help last spring getting ready for the sheep shearing," Holt said. "I didn't expect payment."

Holt, who worked as a waitress and bartender before staying at home to raise her kids, didn't knit, but knew about essential oils and herbs.

"But Kathy and I know so much about each other -- even the things we really don't know about, if that makes any sense," Holt said. "It's a comfortable relationship, more like having a sister than a mother.

"She centers me. It's a comfort to be with her."

It's a mutual admiration society.

"We're just kind of blown away, aren't we Nancy?" Pususta said.

"I'm just amazed every day I see her. This is just really cool."

Paul Levy - 612-673-4419