I’ve always been a listener. Since I was about 10, maybe 12, I asked a million questions. I didn’t even know back then that I wanted to be a writer—I just knew I loved reading, loved stories, reading the Bible and loved the truth. Truth has always been my thing. God knows me: I’m going to tell it.
One day, out of the blue, my dad sat me down. Looking back, I think it had been on his mind for years. He told me he had a daughter before he met my mom. He was about 15. He said he saw her sometimes. I remember asking, “Well why can’t I meet her?” But my dad would shut down when I asked too many questions. He’d give me just enough to keep me interested, but never the whole story. That was him.
He told me she looked like me. That was enough to keep me dreaming. I’d go to bed thinking about her, wondering what it would be like to play with her, to see her face. I never thought he was making it up—I knew my dad. I woke up to him every day of my life. He knew me, and I knew him.
Years passed. I was about 15 or 16 when he wanted to talk about her again, he finally gave me HER mother’s name. Back then there was no internet, no cell phones, no Facebook, no Instagram. Just a name that didn’t ring a bell.
Later, when I was grown and had internet. My Sister came to my mind again. I tried to research her mom, but Dad wouldn’t tell me her name. Still, I held onto the pieces he gave me. I knew My Sisters name. Even if I didn’t know how to spell it. MY FB name is LaCrease, but MY BIRTH CERTIFICATE name is LaCreasea. My mom and dad don’t know how the a got on there, but it’s on my SS, Driver’s License and all my business. I have to use that name. Her name is Lateresa
Then one day, my dad called me: “Zee, your sister just left my apartment.” I was like, “For real, Daddy? Are you serious?” He said yes. I asked him a billion questions. I remember running to Belle Isle—my place of peace—to thank God. I cried. I knew He had answered the prayer I’d been carrying since I was 12.
He gave me her phone number and finally me and my siblings met her. I was tripping on how much she looked like my grandmother. I thought back to 1985 when my grandmother took me on a week train ride to Toronto—we had the best time. Seeing her reminding me how much she looks like grandma.
But life is life. Things slowed down. A lot of things concerning this story had me second guessing. Ups and downs came. I told God, “Okay, I’m done with this for now. When it’s time, I’ll be ready.” But one thing for sure in all of it. I KNEW WHAT MY DADDY TOLD ME WAS THE TRUTH.
After my dad passed in 2019, I heard from her again briefly. We always small talked on each other FB post from time to time, but at least I knew where she was at ALL times. I had peace. God gave me patience and understanding in this situation. I had time.
Then last week—out of nowhere—she contacted me again. She sent me a DNA list with names. I want to post it, it’s funny who all names popped up. I looked at it, and I knew EVERY single person on there. Everyone!!! I asked her what made her finally do it. She said, “I was tired of wondering.”
And that’s our story right there. We all get tired of wondering. Tired of silence. Tired of secrets. I share this because families need these conversations. Some people won’t like it, some will feel uncomfortable. I’m cool with that. Because I love truth. And I am not alone. Here are some photos of her and my niece and nephews!!!! Yeaaaaa!
There is another story I would like to share. I got permission from THOSE, THIS STORY BELONGS TOO. I will only share the JOY it brings me, just because its MY DAUGHTERS STORY NEISHIA.
JUST weeks before I had a stroke. Nesha got a text from her cousin telling her that someone had taken a test ** I really don’t know how those test goes**, but the names on that paper LEADS to known people and their names.
She called her dad and they had a conversation, and the first thing I ask Nesha was does she have a FB? Nesha had photos of her already in her phone. She gave me her name and when I tell you I stalked her page. LOL I was so HAPPY. MY baby has a sister now. She was excited. Not only that but Nesha is an auntie. I can hear them saying Auntie Nesha. LOL I love it.
It just amazes me how things happen. God made us all and he can pair up to be family as he wishes.
When I came home from the hospital, I didn’t return to my apartment. Instead, Nesha took me in and cared for me for over four months. She put her whole life on hold—her plans, her schooling, her dreams. She had signed up for her Master’s program, but life “lifed,” as we say, and she chose to be there for me.
During that time, she spoke with her sister over the phone, but they never met in person.
Now, I’m well, moved into my new apartment, she’s working on getting her life back and it’s time for those quiet gurls to meet!!!!! I’ll see my sister next year * she moved from Detroit* but Neshia’s sister lives right here. I’m going to let them work it out, I’m just excited on the side lines. They are both businesswomen, own their own homes, and NEED TO MAKE TIME FOR EACH OTHER.
🌸 Closing Thoughts
This story is more than just about DNA tests or family connections—it’s about God’s timing, answered prayers, and the joy of discovering new bonds. Families need these conversations, even when they’re unexpected or uncomfortable. Truth has a way of bringing healing, and joy has a way of multiplying.
And right now, joy is multiplying in my family.
Here’s a polished blog dra
Inside the mind of cree 
Lacrease,
your story nearly made me cry. I thought you were gonna say I know where your daughter is. But you were referring to your distant when you indicated the story of you and siblings missing sister that your father at least told you you had a sister.
I imagine it hurt him since he could fix it. But he did more than fix it he TOLD you you have a sister and the pain caused you to refrain from further giving you what he could not fix.
But he did as God allowed him to tell you and for all those years broken by the abandonment of his daughter must pour blood from his emotional psyche.
I have a child out there and haven’t seen her in nearly 30 years. I know what he must have felt. But since I have become a man of God, he has restored my life further and has allowed reconcile my second family and has had two other daughters. But nothing is like the loss of the one sheep.
No matter what I still think about how I was I instrument in this detachment, an abandonment of a child that I have lived with until God restores my child.
In closing, I am happy that you, your siblings as well, as your sister were able to eventually meet, share, and connect, on this journey, and may your father’s grief be settled as he looks down from heaven with smiles and joy.
Happy Holiday
Typically Thanksgiving is your and your siblings’ best gift, Black Sister Rock!
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I will reply tomorrow. Thank you
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I know you are busy. You will respond. But God has to calibrate the time, persons in involved and create the divine season where all parties will glean from the new material information and the parties involve.
God’s timing is accurate and if we pray he will provide all parties with the joy, love and forgiveness from divine intervention. Sometime we are impatience, some times, lack the faith, other times we just don’t want to think about it, not because we don’t like truths but sometimes things need an intercessory prayer.
I have a daughter I have it seen in years. I’m not. I am not a bad father but I was a child when a grown woman had gotten pregnant and I was the culprit.
I panic because didn’t know the first gathered by father who was in the home but worked several to take care two families, several kids out of wedlock since he was I only seen him right before bed and by sunrise he was gone.
When this black woman five years my senior had my daughter I went into panic mode when she came upon my mothers door. I treated like scornful. I questioned her if she knew that this couldn’t be my daughter. Why did you come to my home as nd lie?
I knew it wasn’t a lie but what didn’t know how to be a man. I was a 15 year old snorting nose brat that thought had it together because I was doing some of the thing a man had done: sold drugs, party hard, took numbers and had a way how to make money. But my moral compass was defected it showed up when I push this sister away.
I ran her off when arrived upon door with my daughter and I was so thick and childish I don’t know what did she see in me. Was it money? No, it couldn’t be that, because I didn’t have money and she never forgave me for this trauma that ignited in the huge blunder.
Afterward, I would periodically see my daughter. By that time, I had gotten married to my second daughter mother eighteen years later. I thought by then, after prisoner term, I had learnt something.
I did learnt something but it was how to be a father or a husband. I only had gotten married for parole address release necessity, to have a residential address upon an eight year bid.
I thought I was ready. Not how to be a father or a husband but a reponsible and productive citizen. I had no problem being productive and responsible member of citizen of society. Before my prison term, I was at functional literate with diploma from William Howard Taft.
When girbto prison realized I was not a functional member of society since I couldn’t read barely would write. I didn’t think I had an issue before I was behind the huge wall. But when I had gotten around it her prisoners the light came on. I realized I had not read anything during elementary, middle school, and high school.
In prison we were issued a pair of green khakis without a belt, pair of boots, some nonename sneakers. In addition, the other items the correctional authority issued were each convict a correctional handbook, small cake of unflavored soap, tooth brush, tooth paste,face rag and towel. Besides, the items issued by correctional authority, in prison the only essential but intangible items convicts had was their education, their voice, pencil and paper.
In discovered I didn’t have the education nor the literacy to do the simplest things that didn’t cost anything but was the most significant: Communicate not only with the outside world but family, friends, and business.
I zeroed in learning how to write and read. I taught myself by reading. But it didn’t dawn on me to get therapy for the trauma I suffered not only as a prisoner but as young unproductive and responsible member of society. My disparities were wide and huge.
I realized immediately I had to learn how to read and that is what I did. I add more about this important narrative.
When I was released in 1989 from prison I educated myself but I forgot I had not gotten any help, or therapy for how to be a father, husband, and man. And went home and my beautiful wife with whom both of us were product trauma children.
I was told not to get married right now by a woman with whom I was employed by Mrs Wilson from Wilson’s Bakery on 156 St. Amsterdam, Harlem, New York.
I didn’t listen and I married school friend who had never visited me in prison system until I was ready for release. She didn’t want to have an living in her home with her and 12 year old daughter. So she gave me an option, if I wanted relationship and to live with her and her daughter Aiesha, I was given zn option to marry my ex-girl or I would h as ve to find another address. After 8 years, I didn’t want to get violated and return to the big mans house.
I messed up again. I like I asked my wife yesterday have I been a good husband. She said it has been a huge challenge.
Later I got to fooling around with crack cocaine. My daughter told her moms he was using drugs. Denise said his you know, she displayed the a crack bottle I had dropped in the house.
It took some more thick challenge and my wife left and went south but as time would favored me and by the grace of God, I hot saved gotten saved by the New Birth of Jesus Christ. And my wife return to New York and we reconciled our marriage and relationship.
In closing, Cree! I know you know about prayer. Your father left you with the news he had another daughter. I don’t know if itvqas out-of-wed-lock but what I do know, you know he wasn’t lying and he was gonna victimize himself by giving you more information.
As you mentioned the trauma will hurt some but the truth needs to be ralked about whether the burden slaps you in the face.
As I mentioned, some difficulties need more the individual prayers. May you please pray for me and be in agreement that my daughter will find her father and the excitement of reconciliation will be the legacy of joy and blessing not only for me but my three daughters, my wife and the family will rejoice when she return to her dad for that matter, they will Inherit blessings forevermore.
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