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Influencer and Mom of Two, Rebecca Wylie Simms, Dies at 39 – Details

Rebecca Wylie Simms’ untimely passing has sent shockwaves through fans and loved ones, as they mourn the loss of a devoted mother, talented entrepreneur, and cherished twin sister.

Rebecca, a 39-year-old food influencer and mother of two, has tragically passed away from complications following surgery.

Co-founder of the celebrity-favorite cheese shop Lady & Larder with her twin sister, Sarah Simms Hendrix, Rebecca died earlier this week in California. She is survived by her partner, Sean, and their two daughters, three-year-old Mavis and two-year-old Lou.

The news of her passing was confirmed by Sarah in a heartfelt statement shared on the Lady & Larder Instagram account on January 19, 2025.

Sarah wrote, “It is with profound sadness that I share the devastating loss of my twin sister and co-founder, Boo Simms, who passed away this week due to a tragic surgery complication. This loss is immeasurable, and our hearts are completely shattered.”

She further mentioned, “Boo was our magic maker, our color painter, and the brightest light I have ever known. We ask for your patience and understanding as we navigate this overwhelmingly painful time.”

Sarah also revealed the temporary closure of their Carmel Valley store, stating that the Santa Monica location would remain open. She asked for understanding during this difficult time and thanked their community for their unwavering support, “Your continued support means more than words could ever say.”

Rebecca was widely loved for her artistry and zest for life. Outside of her work at Lady & Larder, she was also an artist and creative director. In her Instagram bio, she introduced herself simply as “[My] friends call me Boo.”

As of now, the exact nature of the surgical complications leading to her death has not been disclosed. Still, the devastating news has sparked an outpouring of grief and love across social media.

On TikTok, users expressed their heartbreak, with one writing, “Good god she’s been taken from her little babies so young,” while another added, “This is truly heartbreaking. Sending love and strength to Rebecca’s family during this difficult time.”

Mother Mag also shared a touching tribute on Instagram, reflecting on their interview with Rebecca and her sister last year. They wrote, “Boo’s love for her two young daughters and her wider family was palpable.”

Rebecca Wylie Simms is pictured with her two little daughters, as seen in a photo dated January 21, 2025 | Source: Instagram/mothermag

Rebecca Wylie Simms is pictured with her two little daughters, as seen in a photo dated January 21, 2025 | Source: Instagram/mothermag

Rebecca had shared her philosophy on motherhood, stating, “My daughters are my muses. The way they experience the world around them has really inspired me to slow down and look closer at everything… It’s honestly my greatest honor in life to get to share this with them.”

Rebecca Wylie Simms is pictured with her daughter, as seen in a photo dated January 21, 2025 | Source: Instagram/mothermag

Rebecca Wylie Simms is pictured with her daughter, as seen in a photo dated January 21, 2025 | Source: Instagram/mothermag

The mom of two also expressed how much she cherished the simple joys of motherhood. She described the everyday wonders she experienced with her daughters, saying it was a privilege to guide them “not just through milestones, but mostly through the subtleties of all the everyday wonders—like the feeling of sand between our toes, the sound of crickets… rainbows after rain.”

Rebecca Wylie Simms is pictured kissing her daughter, as seen in a photo dated January 21, 2025 | Source: Instagram/mothermag

Rebecca Wylie Simms is pictured kissing her daughter, as seen in a photo dated January 21, 2025 | Source: Instagram/mothermag

Rebecca added, “I could cry just thinking about it. It’s honestly my greatest honor in life to get to share this with them.” Mother Mag concluded their post by saying, “We’re sending all of our love to Sarah & all of Boo’s family and friends during this devastating time.”

Rebecca’s last Instagram post, dated January 3, 2025, is now being viewed as a poignant reminder of her vibrant spirit and outlook on life.

She wrote, “Our magic ride continues on this little blue marble. My toast for 2025: may we remember to wake up and dance…go slowly, follow what makes you feel, and be amazed by it all.”

Rebecca Wylie Simms is seen with her daughter in a photo shared on January 3, 2025 | Source: Instagram/boosimms

Rebecca Wylie Simms is seen with her daughter in a photo shared on January 3, 2025 | Source: Instagram/boosimms

The post included endearing photos of Rebecca with her daughters and loved ones, capturing the essence of familial warmth. Her words of gratitude and hope have resonated deeply with fans and friends in light of her passing.

Rebecca and Sarah, who celebrated their 39th birthday in December 2024, shared an extraordinary bond. Sarah once described their journey as “sharing our birthday (and just about everything else) since the beginning of time.”

Their collaborative venture, Lady & Larder, was a testament to their shared passion and creativity, leaving an indelible mark on the food industry.

Lady & Larder earned widespread recognition for its artisanal cheese boards, charcuterie, and hidden sandwich menu. Located in Santa Monica, the shop is a favorite for its curated selections of wine, flowers, and high-quality ingredients, attracting a devoted following, including celebrities and food enthusiasts.

Rebecca’s legacy will live on through her artistry, her contributions to Lady & Larder, and the countless lives she touched through her work and family.

While her passing leaves an immeasurable void, her vibrant spirit and words of wisdom will be remembered by all who knew her.

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Interesting

The billionaire came home and found his housekeeper sleeping on the floor with his one-year-old twins in her arms. No crib. No blanket. Just fear. “Explain,” he said coldly. She whispered, “I was protecting them.” He didn’t believe her—until he checked the security footage. What he saw next shattered his confidence, his household, and everything he thought he controlled. Discover more windows Journaling supplies towel The billionaire came home and found his housekeeper sleeping on the floor with his one-year-old twins in her arms. No crib. No blanket. Just fear. “Explain,” he said coldly. She whispered, “I was protecting them.” He didn’t believe her—until he checked the security footage. What he saw next shattered his confidence, his household, and everything he thought he controlled. The house was silent in the way only very expensive homes are—thick walls, soft lighting, sound swallowed by wealth. When Julian Ashford stepped inside, he expected the usual order: polished floors, climate perfectly balanced, his twins asleep upstairs in their nursery monitored by cameras and motion sensors. Instead, he found chaos in the quietest form. In the hallway outside the nursery, on the cold marble floor, lay his housekeeper. Maria. She was curled on her side, her back against the wall, her arms wrapped tightly around his one-year-old twins. The babies were pressed against her chest, one fist tangled in her uniform, the other clutching her sleeve. There was no crib. No blanket. No pillow. Just bodies arranged for protection. Julian stopped. For a fraction of a second, he thought she had fallen asleep on duty. Then he saw her face. Her eyes were open. Red. Terrified. Awake. “Explain,” he said coldly. Maria flinched but did not loosen her grip on the children. Her voice came out barely above a whisper. “I was protecting them.” Julian’s jaw tightened. “From what?” She swallowed. “From being taken.” His patience snapped. “This is unacceptable,” he said sharply. “You removed them from their nursery. You slept on the floor with them like—like this.” His gaze flicked over the scene with clear disgust. “You’ll put them back immediately.” Maria shook her head. Just once. Small. Defiant. “No,” she whispered. “Not yet.” Something about the word yet irritated him more than the rest. “Maria,” he warned, “stand up. Now.” The twins stirred, one letting out a small whimper. Maria tightened her arms instinctively, rocking them slightly. “Please,” she said, voice trembling. “Just… check the cameras first.” Julian laughed once, humorless. “You think I don’t know what happens in my own house?” “I think,” she said carefully, “that you don’t know what happens when you’re not here.” That was when he noticed the nursery door behind them. It was open. Inside, the crib was empty. The sheets were gone. The baby monitor lay face down on the floor, unplugged. Julian felt a flicker of irritation—not fear, not yet—but something close. “Move,” he said. Maria didn’t. So he stepped around her, pulled out his phone, and opened the security app. Confident. Certain. Because nothing happened in his house without his permission. At least, that’s what he believed. Until the footage loaded. And his certainty collapsed. Julian scrolled back through the timeline, irritation tightening his grip on the phone. Midnight. 1:00 a.m. 2:00 a.m. At 2:14 a.m., the nursery camera flickered. That alone was unusual. Then the screen stabilized—and Julian stopped breathing. The crib was empty. Not suddenly. Not violently. Methodically. The footage rewound automatically ten minutes. A man entered the nursery. Not masked. Not rushed. Calm. Familiar. Julian leaned closer. It was his brother. Elliot. Elliot moved with confidence, like someone who belonged there. He unplugged the monitor first. Then he lifted one twin from the crib, adjusted the child’s position carefully, and placed him in a travel carrier just out of frame. Julian’s pulse roared in his ears. The timestamp continued. Elliot reached for the second twin— And froze. Because the nursery door opened behind him. Maria stepped in. She didn’t scream. She didn’t run. She stepped between Elliot and the crib and shook her head. The audio was faint, but clear enough. “No,” she said. “You’re not taking them.” Elliot smiled. Actually smiled. He leaned close, speaking quietly. “Julian won’t notice,” he said. “He never does.” Julian’s stomach dropped. Maria moved faster than Julian would have expected. She scooped the remaining twin into her arms and backed away. Elliot reached for her wrist—but she screamed then, sharp and loud, triggering the hallway camera. Lights flicked on. Elliot stepped back instantly. “You’re making this difficult,” he said calmly. “I have paperwork. Guardianship. Signed.” Maria shook her head violently. “Not legal,” she said. “I checked.” Julian’s hands began to shake. The footage continued. Elliot left the nursery—but not the house. He walked straight into Julian’s office. Julian fast-forwarded, heart pounding. Elliot rifled through drawers. Opened the safe. Removed a folder. The label was visible even on the grainy feed. Trust Amendment — Contingent Custody Clause Julian remembered signing it months ago—barely reading it, trusting Elliot “to handle details.” The camera cut. Julian lowered the phone slowly. Behind him, Maria was still on the floor, still holding the twins, her arms trembling now from exhaustion. “I moved them,” she whispered. “I slept there so he couldn’t come back without waking me. I stayed awake all night.” Julian looked at her. At the woman he paid to clean his house. At the woman who had stood between his children and the man he trusted most. And for the first time since he’d built his empire, Julian realized something terrifying. The greatest threat to his control had never been an outsider. It had been inside his home. And it had almost won. Julian didn’t yell. That surprised everyone—including himself. He simply knelt, gently took one twin from Maria’s arms, then the other, and stood. His movements were careful now, reverent in a way they had never been before. “Thank you,” he said quietly. Maria’s shoulders sagged as if the words released something she’d been holding all night. She pressed her forehead to the wall and finally cried. Julian turned away and made three phone calls. The first was to his lawyer. Short. Precise. “Freeze everything Elliot touched. All accounts. All documents. Now.” The second was to security. “Escort my brother off the property if he returns. Record everything.” The third was to the police. He did not soften the facts. Attempted abduction. Fraud. Abuse of trust. By morning, Elliot was in custody. The trust amendment—quietly rewritten and buried under legal language—was exposed for what it was: a contingency designed to activate if Julian were declared “temporarily unfit.” A declaration Elliot had already been preparing. Julian sat in his office as sunlight filled the room, twins asleep in a playpen beside him, untouched coffee growing cold on the desk. Control had always been his strength. But control had blinded him. Maria stood in the doorway, unsure, exhausted, still expecting punishment. Julian looked at her for a long time. “I didn’t believe you,” he said finally. She nodded. “I know.” “I will never put my children in that position again,” he said. “And I won’t forget who protected them when I couldn’t.” He handed her a new contract that afternoon. Not a raise. Not a bonus. A guardianship clause. If anything ever happened to him, Maria would be contacted before anyone else. Her hands shook as she read it. “Sir… I’m just—” “You were everything,” Julian said. “When it mattered.” That night, for the first time since the twins were born, Julian slept in their room. Not because he feared shadows. But because he finally understood this truth: Money builds walls. Power builds illusions. But loyalty—the real kind—shows up on cold floors, sleepless, holding what matters most. And once you see that? You can never unsee what you almost lost. If you were in Julian’s place, who would you trust after something like this—and how would you rebuild control without losing your humanity?