God’s Miraculous Gift of an Unknown Sister

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart but the very next day…      just kidding!

Force of habit with that phrase!

Let me try again.

Last Christmas, 2021, I asked my husband, Josh, for an Ancestry DNA kit. Why? You may ask. Well, my mother and father were divorced before I was born, and I never knew my father. I wanted to learn more about my relatives and ancestors on his side. I am a huge ancestry.com fan and love learning all I can about history, especially my family’s history!

Years prior, my mother had done an excellent job in tracking the lineage and stories of her mother’s side of the family, the Sullivan’s, and she also found quite a bit on my grandfather’s side, the LaFon’s as well. But I knew so little about my father’s side and with each passing year I grew curiouser and curiouser… just like Alice in Wonderland.

In order for you to have a better understanding of this story, I will begin by telling you what I know about my mother and father and their relationship.

One day while my mother was walking in downtown Phoenix to her job, it may have been a bank… or maybe it was a store, wherever it was she worked, it was downtown. My father was driving downtown at that moment and saw her walking to work. My mother was a very beautiful young woman, and he was smitten by her. I believe he went into the establishment where she worked and charmed her into going on a date with him. I am not totally sure of her age, but she was around 19 or 20 years old.

My father told her his name was Michael Sims. He was a professional artist, as well as a singer, musician, actor, and dance instructor. He was bursting with talent and good looks! His family lived in San Diego, CA. He had two older brothers and his mother living there, but his father and mother were divorced. (I’m not sure whether or not at this time his father was still alive.) His mother had remarried to man whose last name was LaFleur.

I don’t know how long my parents dated, and I have had too many mixed stories to try and tell you much about their time together before they married, but I know that they had a marriage ceremony at the 44th Street Church of God and were married by the pastor at the time, Brother Hurschel Diffie.

The marriage didn’t last long and the story I know was that my father had given my mother Hepatitis when she was pregnant with me in her first trimester. My mother’s doctor was concerned about her because she was very ill and he told her that perhaps having an abortion would be best as I would probably be born very deformed, have many special needs and not have any kind of normal or healthy life.

I am and always will be thankful that my mother refused the doctor’s suggestion to abort me.

However, my father did want her to have an abortion.

Instead of him taking her to their home from the hospital, he chose to bring her to my grandparents’ house where he laid her in one of the spare beds, kissed her on the head, told her he was going to get her suitcase… and never came back.

When I was born, I had a few health issues, which Jesus later healed me from, but I was kept in the hospital for about a week and sent home to live a life that was nothing like what the doctor’s described. Praise God!

But before my mother and I left the hospital, my mother told me one day she came into the hospital room where I was, my father was standing there looking at me. She told him that they were now divorced, that I belonged to her, and she asked him to leave.

My mother and I lived with my grandparents until I was seven years old.
When I was about four years old, I remember making a father’s day card at church for my grandfather, whom I lovingly called, Papa. One of my relatives asked me who I made a
Father’s Day card for and when I told him I made it for Papa, he said, “He’s not your father, he’s your grandpa. You don’t have a father.”

I remember this moment vividly to this day, what room I was in, even where I was sitting at the table in the children’s church room. I began to wonder to myself, “I don’t have a father? Why not?”

I remember asking questions to my mother about my father, but she never wanted to talk about him.
At that time, I learned most of the information about him from my Mema, my maternal grandmother. She told me that I looked so much like him, walked like him, talked like him and I became very confused as to why he wasn’t in my life.

One day, while searching (without permission, mind you) in my mother’s room for her camera (I love taking pictures!) I stumbled upon some small square photos. It was my mother beautifully dressed in a satin silver colored wedding gown with a hat and small face veil, Brother Diffie was next to her and next to him was a very handsome man in a suit with a silver tie. The man was tall, had tanned skin, dark hair, and a charming smile. I took the photo to Mema and asked if this was my father.

She was surprised that I had the photo in my hand, but she told me “Yes, that is your father… but you should go put that back where you found it.”

I put the photo back, but whenever my mother wasn’t home, I would take it out and look at it, wondering where this man was and why he left.

While my mother didn’t like talking about my father, she did have the respect for his mother to allow her to know about me and to write to me. I called my father’s mother, Nana.

Nana was very kind to me. She never forgot my birthday and always sent a gift and card. She also sent Christmas gifts and throughout the year from time to time, she would write me letters. When I was old enough to do so, I would write to her too.

I learned from both my mother and Nana, that my father had been married before my mother to another woman and had two children with her. I don’t know if they would want their names mentioned in this story, so for this story I will call them Jake and Jamey. My mother knew them as they had come to visit and stay with their father while he was married to my mother.

Nana would send me photos of them, my uncles, and their children so that I could see I had many other cousins and relatives out there in the world.

The first time I met Nana in person I was seven years old. My mother, my Aunt Cookie, and my honorary Aunt Janie, loaded up all their kids and made a caravan over to San Diego for some play time at Sea World and the beach. It was on this trip that my mother arranged for me to meet my Nana because she lived in San Diego.

My mother had bought me a little stuffed otter at Sea World and with that clutched under my arm, and my Sea World Sailor hat on my head, the two of us headed over to Nana’s house. I was both excited and nervous… though I find there is a fine line between the two!

When we arrived, my Nana took my face into her hands and said, “Oh, she is Bob’s child, he could never deny this child.”

I smiled and thought to myself, “Who’s Bob?”
My mother didn’t say anything about it, so I didn’t say anything about it.

Then she told my mother that my father was there. He was in the backyard restoring an old car.
My mother’s face flushed, I knew that she had no idea he was going to be there, and she tried to conceal that she was not happy about it, but I knew she wasn’t happy.

Nana took me by the hand and walked me out the back door with my mother walking behind us.
All I remember of this moment was seeing a large old car, which looked to me like something from the show “Happy Days”. There were large lights all around the front of the car and in front of those lights stood a tall man. I can’t remember really seeing his face though because he was shadowed by the lights.
Nana introduced me to him and happily said, “This is your daughter, Angelique.”

I remember him smiling and looking at me, “Hello,” he said, then he looked at my mother and spoke to her, “You’re looking good, Bonnie,” he said. My mother gave him a courteous smile, head nod, and thank you. And that was it. He just went back to working on the car. He didn’t try to talk to me or get to know me at all.

My Nana walked me back inside the house and I remember her showing me several pieces of his artwork on the walls. His ability was truly God given. He never had studied or gone to school to learn to draw or paint. He just did it. Anything he saw, he could create.

Nana gave me a pencil and a piece of paper because she knew I liked to draw. I looked at one of his paintings on the wall, which was of an incredible clipper ship and while she visited with my mother, I tried my best to draw a clipper ship like his.

When I showed it to Nana, she thought it was lovely and suggested I go show it to my father. I looked at my mother who nodded that it was okay, and I walked out the back door and approached the man working on the car, my father. I believe he also had a friend there working on the car with him. As I walked closer, I began thinking to myself, what do I call him? I had never called anyone Dad, or Daddy before.
I thought calling him “Father” was a bit too much, but before I could decide, I was there in front of him, holding my picture.

I cleared my throat and stuttered, “D-daddy?” I said sheepishly feeling strange as I spoke that word for the first time in my life to someone.

He looked over at me but didn’t say anything. “Nana said… um… she said I should show this to you. I tried to draw the ship you like you did… the one on the wall.”

He grinned as he looked at the paper, “That’s very nice,” he said with a smile, then went back to working on the car. I stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do or what to say. I remember looking at the side of the car, then down at my shoes. He never said anything else, so I just turned around and went back inside the house.

I knew he had no interest in me and I didn’t want to try again to see if he would.

As the years passed and I grew older, more relatives and friends who knew my father would tell me how much I resembled him. Though I have also been told I resemble my mother, I think it was because I have always had dark hair, dark eyebrows and olive toned skin like my father that made people think of him more when they see me.

One day, when I was twenty-two years old, my mother told me that she had dreamt about my father. I was shocked. She told me that she dreamt he had come into her bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed next to her. In the dream, he apologized to her and thanked her for taking him to church and introducing him to Jesus. He told her that he got things right with God and that he was sorry for what he had done and how he had treated us. Then he got up and left.

She was sincerely shaken by the dream, telling me it seemed so real. I thought it was beautiful and asked her if it brought her any peace. She said it did help her. Still, I wondered what the dream meant, was it something her subconscious wanted to hear? Or was it more?

It wasn’t more than two weeks later; I received a letter from my Nana telling me that my father had passed away.  When I read the letter, I felt sadness for my half siblings, Jake, and Jamey, and especially for Nana as she had then lost all three of her sons. I immediately thought of my mother’s dream and we both believed perhaps that was a gift from God. Hearing him tell her he was sorry for what he had done was God’s way of bringing her some closure and so that through her forgiving him, more healing for her heart could come.

Nana told me that she had some things she wanted to give me of my father’s and asked if I would be able to come to San Diego for a visit. I talked to my mother and Mema about it, and we thought it best that my Mema went with me. Mema loved to travel, plus, she wanted to meet Nana. So, we headed out to San Diego.

The day I arrived, Nana hugged me and showed me the art studio where my father worked. She had told me that the day before I came, the Salvation Army had come and cleaned out what art was left from my father’s studio. I didn’t say anything, but deep down I had hoped to be able to at least see some of his creations. Then she told me she had a painting inside that she would give me, it was of a clipper ship, sails full of wind, on the seas during a storm. I was very grateful, and it hangs in my son’s room today.
I also have a painting that he did for my Papa, and a portrait that he did of my mother. She used to have an incredible painting of Jesus on the cross, but sadly, it perished in a house fire that took place December 22, 1990.

Nana broke out her photo albums and it was only then that I truly understood how handsome my father was. He was over six feet tall, in excellent shape, with dark brown hair, good jaw line, captivating eyes and broad smile. If I had to compare him to someone for you to get a better idea, I could say he reminded me a bit of Pierce Brosnan—only with larger eyes. I understood why these women were so drawn to him. He was a tall, strikingly handsome, exceptionally talented, and charming man.

I asked Nana if it would be okay to take them to make some copies of the photos. Some were of Nana when she was young, some were of all three of her sons when they were young, all of them extremely tall and very handsome, and some were of my father when he was older. Later in life, when I had my son, Samuel, I was grateful to have these photos of my father when he was young so I could see that Samuel really favors my father.

Mema stayed to visit Nana while I went in search of a copy machine. They got along very well and enjoyed each other’s company. When I came back from making the copies, Nana had a black binder notebook that she gave me.

“This was from your father’s memorial service,” she said.

I sat looking through the book at the different things which were read and done for his memorial. He had been cremated and his ashes were dropped off one of his favorite cliffs by the ocean.

Then I noticed a little card tucked down in the front pocket of the binder. I opened it to see that it was his death certificate.

“Nana, did you need this?” I asked.

“No, that is for you to keep,” she said.

While she and Mema chatted, I read the death certificate and saw there was no one named Michael anywhere on it.

“Nana, this certificate says Robert Sims. Whose Robert?” I asked.

“Robert is your father, we called him Bob,” she replied.

“Robert? But I thought my father’s name was Michael… wasn’t it?” I asked in confusion.

Mema was quiet.

“No, his name was Robert,” Nana said.

“Was Michael his middle name or some sort of nickname?” I asked.

“No, no, just Robert Sims,” she said, “His nickname was Bob.”

I looked at Mema who was also very confused.

“He told us all that his name was Michael,” Mema said, “We all called him Mike.”

Nana sat back as if she was in deep thought, “Mike… Mike… oh yes! I remember! One day, when he brought your mother here to meet all his family, he came in the house before she did and said,
‘My name’s Mike, call me Mike!’ And oh, my did we have a hard time remembering to call him Mike!” she laughed.

Mema and I sat there looking at each other, bewildered.

Then I looked at his birthdate and day of passing. “Mema, how much older did you say my father was than my mother?”

Mema quickly answered, “He told us he was eight years older than she was. Your mother was born in 1948.”

Nana looked puzzled, “Eight years older?” she asked curiously.

I held up the death certificate, “According to this, he was born in January… 1929. That was before the Great Depression.”

Mema’s jaw literally dropped. He had told my mother his name was Michael Sims. She married Michael Sims. That was the name on their marriage license. He had told her he was eight years older than she was, but he was almost twenty years older than she was.

“Did you say I could keep this?” I asked Nana, who shook her head.

I tried to shift the conversation to something else less confusing so that the ending of my visit with Nana would be pleasant. It all did end well, and I was very, very thankful for the painting, family photos and correct information I now had about my father.

Nana also gave me my brother Jake’s phone number and while I was in San Diego, I got to speak with him and learn a little bit about him and his life.

It was a lot to take in. Mema and I went to the beach and sat down to talk about it and process everything. When I called my mom, she was shocked. She had come to believe that he was a con man, so hearing this information proved that to be true.

When I was twenty-five years old, I married, My Love, Josh. I had sent Nana and a wedding celebration invitation, and she sent a lovely gift, but of course, was unable to make the trip. She was in her nineties at the time. But not long afterward, Josh’s family took us on a trip to a place about an hour’s drive from where my Nana lived. Josh asked his parents if we could take the car so that I could have what I believed would be and what was my last personal visit with my Nana.

She was so happy to get to meet Josh and we had such a lovely time together. She gave me a few more little things of my father’s and showed me more photos, told me more stories, and gave us her blessing for our new marriage together. I will always be so thankful that I was able to have that last visit with her. Just to spend those few hours with her was something I will always cherish. She passed away not long after our last visit.

As time went on and Josh and I were blessed with our own children, I began having more questions arise in my mind about my father’s side. When I spent time with Nana, she just wanted to know everything she could about me and I wanted to hear stories about her, my father, and her family. But I began to realize there were many questions I should have asked her, but just wasn’t thinking about them.

For example, whenever I took the children to the doctor, they would ask me all kinds of questions about our family’s medical history. Josh knew his, but I only knew half of mine. I didn’t know much about my genes on that side at all. I didn’t know about any illnesses or traits, there were just so many questions I still had.

Enter Ancestry.com!

Upon seeing the commercials for Ancestry.com I wanted to try it out and create a family tree. I just knew that Ancestry would help me find the answers to the questions I had.

But when I saw they were selling Ancestry DNA kits, I got even more excited! At the time, we just didn’t have the extra funds to buy one.  Then, in December 2021, I saw a commercial that Ancestry was having a special Christmas sale on their DNA kits. They were almost half off! So, I told my family that was all I wanted for Christmas!


Josh did surprise me with an Ancestry DNA kit, and I was thrilled! I spit into the little tube and sent it in with great expectation of learning more about who I was and where I came from.

I got the results back in February 2022. We had just moved into our new house, and I remember telling Josh I was going to wait a few days to get some more things settled so I could nestle down with my laptop, study all the results of my DNA test and learn about myself! And boy did I learn a LOT!

For those of you who have never done an Ancestry DNA test, I can tell you that it is well worth the investment! They not only will tell you where your ancestors originated from, they also show you the exact places where they dwelled, the history of the land where they lived, and what their occupations were. They give information about specific traits that you have received from these relatives of the past too! For example, I have learned that based on my genetics, I am more likely to be a night person than 60% of the population. No surprise there!

My genetics suggest that I am more likely to take risks than 80% of the population. I can see that about myself. My DNA suggests that I am definitely an extrovert. Again, no surprise! But one trait that did surprise me was that I have some DNA traits commonly found in elite athletes. I guess that’s why I can work the hours I do!

There was so much wonderful information to take in and learn!

Here is what I learned about the places and people I come from:

48%  England and Northwestern Europe, specifically Northwest England and the Isle of Man
          (This didn’t surprise me because Nana was born in Liverpool, England)
23%  Scotland (This totally shocked me! I had no idea Scots were my people!)
11%  Ireland (No surprise here, Mema was a Sullivan!)
8%    Wales (A pleasant surprise)
6%    Sweden and Denmark (which I loved because my dear friend, Rhona Mullins is Swedish!)
4%    Norway (This was also a pleasant surprise! I need to learn more about Norway!)

Another amazing facet of Ancestry.com is that they will connect you with any relatives in the world who have also taken the DNA test!

This is where the story gets really fun!

One day while Josh was studying my Ancestry page and information, he found a tab on my ancestry that says DNA Matches. This is where you can see all those listed who share a DNA match with you. They will also list the percentage of shared DNA. When Josh first showed me this page, the top of the “DNA Matches” page listed “First Cousins”, and then went on to show second cousins and third and so on.

The first person listed on my DNA Matches pages was a man named Michael Shaffer. Michael and I shared 27% of DNA.

The second person listed was a woman named Angelique Baker. Angelique and I not only shared the same name, but we also shared 24% of our DNA.

The next person listed was my cousin John Hammer. Now, John, I know! He is my cousin on my mother’s side. John and I share 15% DNA.

Since then, Ancestry has made some improvement so that you can see all your maternal side relatives separate from the paternal side, so that you can clearly know who is connected to you by what parent.
But when we first read this, we really weren’t sure if these people were related to me on my maternal side or my paternal side.

Josh was excited, “You should reach out to these people and introduce yourself. Tell them you are trying to learn more about your father’s side of the family.”

I completely agreed and sat down to compose letters to both Michael Shaffer and Angelique Baker.

This is the letter that I sent them:

My name is Angelique LaFon-Cox and Robert Sims, son of Walton Miles Sincindiver was my father. It came up today that you are one of my 1st cousins and I was tickled to see we share the same name! I never knew my father; my mother and father were divorced before I was born. I met my Nana Ethel three times, but don’t know much about my father’s side of the family. I am excited to have ancestry to learn more about my father’s side and meet some of my relatives! I just wanted to introduce myself and say “hello!” I also wrote to another cousin, Michael Shaffer, to say hello. It is nice to meet you!”

This was part of the reply I received from Angelique:

“OMG!!!! Angelique…we are not cousins…we’re half-sisters!! Robert Sims was my dad, too. He married my mom, Jeannette, in 1966. He was about 40 and she was 18.”

Needless to say, I was overwhelmed with joy! I ran into Josh the day I received this message and was jumping up and down, “ANGELIQUE IS NOT MY COUSIN! SHE IS MY SISTER!”

My entire family was amazed!

During the months that followed Angelique and I started getting to know each other and putting the pieces of our stories together to see how they fit.

Here is Angelique’s mother’s story.

Her mother was named Jeanette and was a very beautiful woman. Not only was she beautiful, she also resembled my mother when my mother was young! When I first saw a photo that Angelique had of her mother and our father together, I thought for a moment that it was my mother! We believe our father definitely had a type of lady he was attracted to.

When Jeanette was eighteen years old, Jeanette was working at a prominent store in Texas. She worked in the front of the store because she was very personable and beautiful. One day, in walks Robert Sims. He took one look at Jeanette and was smitten. They began dating and it wasn’t long before he whisked her off to San Diego, CA where his family was.

It wasn’t long thereafter he took Jeanette to Mexico to get married… interesting isn’t it? Do you see the pattern we saw? Robert knew marrying Jeanette in Mexico would not be a legal marriage in the United States and he knew that marrying my mother under a name which wasn’t his legal name also would have legal troubles.

I learned that Jeanette and my mother were both born in the same year.
Our father had met Jeanette first and married her in 1966. During their marriage, there were many difficult challenges that Jeanette had been dealing with. She was so young, was working so hard to try and support them because she learned he was quite the con man and had burned many of his art vendor bridges, and all the while she was battling illnesses given to her by him. They had been together a couple of years when Jeanette got pregnant with Angelique, and when she did, Robert also wanted her to have an abortion. Jeanette refused (Praise God!) and that was the last straw for her.
She packed up, left him in California and went back home to live with her parents in Texas.

Angelique was born in 1968 but Robert did not know that she was alive.

When Angelique was two years old, which would have been 1970, Robert suddenly showed up at the place where he had met Jeanette, her workplace. He told her that he wanted to see how she was doing and asked about the baby.

Jeanette had grown very wise and wanted to protect her child. She told him that she had lost the baby, that they no longer had any connection to one another and that she wanted him to leave and never come back.

He did.

So, no one on my father’s side knew about Angelique, whom I call Angelique the 1st. 😊

Something that just clicked in my mind while writing this. If he went to Texas to check on Jeanette in 1970, that means he was still married to my mother when he did it!

Robert knew he had fathered a child with a woman in Texas, but he didn’t know that child lived.
Nana didn’t know about Angelique. Jake and Jamey didn’t know about her, and she didn’t know anything about us either, until we did the ancestry.com test!

Angelique and I have had many wonderful conversations which we literally have to schedule with one another because we spend hours learning about each other, asking questions, telling stories and we have learned so much.

Of course, one of the first things we wanted to know about each other was where we got our name.

For the majority of my life, I had thought my mother got my name from my Papa’s reading. Papa was an avid Louis L’ Amour and Zane Grey reader. I had read one of the back covers of one of his books and learned that he had a daughter named Angelique. I mentioned once that I thought that was where my mom got my name, but my mom told me that she got my name from a 1960’s soap opera called
Dark Shadows. Apparently, there was a Vampiress on that show named Angelique.

When I told Angelique this she was giggling, that is the exact same place her mother, Jeanette got her name! She goes by the more accurate French pronunciation of the name, “Awn-jeleek” and I go by “Ann-jeleek” which helps when addressing one of us. 😉

We learned we have so many things in common.

Our mothers were born in the same year and as I mentioned, when they were younger, they looked very similar. They were beautiful, young women who believed they had found the love of their lives, sadly, both had their hearts broken by him.
Our father married our mothers when they were close to the same age.
He wanted both women to have abortions.
Our mothers were close to the same ages when they gave birth to us.
We both were given the same first name and a French middle name. Hers is Monet, mine was LaFon.
When both of us were born, we were raised in our grandparents’ homes.
When we were eight years old, both our mothers remarried and we both didn’t have healthy relationships with our stepfathers.
We both love art, music, movies, giving to others, and miniature things.
We both love to travel, go exploring and see God’s big, beautiful world!
We both married the loves of our lives! And our children (and for Angelique also her grandson)
are the greatest blessings of our lives!
One of the things I find so wonderful that we also have in common… we both love BEARS!
She calls her husband Billy Bear and her grandson Sugar Bear!
When she learned all about our Huggabears and that we call our children bears she was tickled pink!

I am absolutely amazed at all that we have in common with each other and we are learning more all the time!

After we had begun connecting with one another and knew that if we were 24% DNA match with one another, the man, Michael Shaffer having a 27% shared DNA had to be our brother.

We were right. He was.

I kept sending letters to Michael’s Ancestry account as I didn’t know how often he might have checked his messages there. I received a lovely letter from a woman named Leia who was Michael’s friend since high-school. Michael’s story was much sadder than Angelique’s and mine.

Our father, Robert, had an affair with Michael’s mother while he was still married. Michael was born in 1958, so we believe this affair possibly took place while he was married to Jake and Jamey’s mother.

Michael’s mother was also 18 years old when he met Robert. They never were married and when she got pregnant with Michael… you can guess, Robert wanted her to have an abortion.
She too had the baby and lived with her parents who raised Michael.

Sadly, Michael got bone cancer and died before Angelique and I had the chance to get acquainted with him, but Leia connected us to his wife, and we were able to see photos of him. My goodness! He was the spitting image of our father! So handsome!

There is still so much that Angelique and I are learning about each other, and we are loving every minute of it! She thought she was an only child as Jeanette never had any other children. But then one day, because of Ancestry.com, she learned she had four other siblings, and nieces and at least one nephew, my Samuel!

This is what we have pieced together so far of the children of Robert Sims:

We believe Jake was the first born. Jamey, his sister, was next. Thought we aren’t totally sure about their birth years. But we believe Michael was born next in 1958. Then Angelique the 1st in 1968, followed by me in 1971.

I also have a brother whom I share a mother with, who was born in 1981.

My mother did tell me two different stories that my father had told her. He believed that he had fathered a child in San Antonio while he was there on commission to do paintings of the Alamo.

He also told her about another child that could have been his because he said he had an affair with the child’s mother.

My mother also told me that when he left her, he had gone to live with a woman in Las Vegas. This was information she had received from my Nana who later sent me some photos of her with my father taken in Las Vegas. Who knows? Maybe we have a sibling there too!

Needless to say, our father enjoyed gallivanting around the country spreading his seed to these poor young girls who all fell hard for his good looks, talent and charm, and believed him to be much younger than he was. I guess the positive side of that is that his children should have good genes when it comes to aging!

God only knows how many of his children are actually out there… and how many might have been aborted. My prayer is that if there are more siblings out there who need to be loved and understood, that God would bring them to take the Ancestry test too. Angelique and I hope to be able to get more connected with Jake and Jamey in the days ahead. Angelique and I have a lot of love to share with any of our siblings in the world who will receive it and want to be part of our and our family’s lives!

My children came up with a song for Angelique and I to sing, based upon one of their childhood songs sung in church.

“Father Robert Sims, had many sons,
Many sons had father Robert Sims,
I am one of them, you may be too!
So let’s just say DEAR LORD!”

My children are such goofballs! They make me laugh!

Angelique is an amazing woman and I love her dearly. She is so very kind, gentle, loving, compassionate, brave, strong, highly intelligent, hardworking, giving, and is so very beautiful! She is married to a wonderful man who loves her dearly and takes excellent care of her heart! She too is a gifted artist and works in many mediums. She laughs easily, makes me laugh, is so easy to get along with and I love that people can tell we are sisters! She is a devoted and loving wife, mother, and grandmother. Oh yes! I have a very handsome new nephew, a beautiful new niece and a very handsome new grandnephew who is so precious! I can’t wait to meet them all!

Angelique and I do not hold any bitterness or anger toward our father. We both have forgiven him for his choices and actions where we were concerned. We both love and trust God in all things and we both believe that God knew best where our father was concerned in our lives. We are just so thankful to have found each other!

There is no one on earth who can understand my feelings about our father like Angelique can. God knew that we needed each other and there really are no words to properly describe how thankful I am for her. I am also more thankful than words can say that God kept nudging me to take and Ancestry DNA test! Without that test, I might not have found Angelique and started this amazing journey into learning more about my ancestors and who I am.

Angelique is also a wonderful sister and has become my very dear friend. She is a wonderful aunt and loves getting to know my children and is already spoiling them—which they love! 😉 I praise Adonai, my AWESOME GOD every single day for giving me the miraculous gift, that only He could give, of my beautiful Sister Bear, Angelique!

Today, December 12th is her birthday! She shares a birthday with my son, Samuel who was also born on December 12th! I had not shared this story publicly as I wanted to have this past year to just take this all in, learn all that I could about Angelique, and just enjoy having her as my sister!
I love being able to say that I have a sister!

I didn’t feel led in my spirit to bring this story to the world right away. There was so much to learn and so much time was needed to learn it. I am thankful for the time to get to know my sister during 2022, and recently I felt led write our incredible story to also testify of God’s goodness, as this was something only God could do. Today I am posting it for her birthday, as a gift to her and to let the world what an incredible, miraculous, extra special, and precious gift she is to me!

Happy birthday, my Sister Bear, I am thankful for you and love you so much!