Our irreplaceable daughter, Sabrina, lost her battle with bipolar disorder on March 27th, 2025. She made an impulsive choice to end her life, and by doing so has changed the lives of so many of those around her irreversibly. Sabrina is survived by her mother, father, stepfather, various grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins, one nephew, and 5 broken-hearted siblings. She joins her unborn baby sister, who she always reminded us to count when we were asked how many children we had.
We are shattered. And we’ve been amazed to find that our community of support is so much larger than we ever thought. And we have been unsurprised to find that Sabrina touched more lives than she could have possibly known.
Born as Even, called Owen for several years, and finally finding her way to Sabrina, our daughter was a beautiful transgender woman, a furry who could never quite afford a suit, an aviation aficionado, a creator of her own world that she will never have the chance to write down, and more things than I can remember at this moment. She would go out of her way to cheer up anyone who was feeling down, whether she knew them or not. Though really, she never met a stranger. She was passionate and fiercely loyal to her friends and family.
Sabrina had so many demons to face. She lived her life with Childhood Bipolar Disorder – a mood disorder from birth. She had recently developed Functional Neurological Disorder, a seizure-like condition that would cause full-body paralysis while she could still hear and see what was going on around her. Despite her challenges, Sabrina graduated high school, held several jobs, and even got to experience living on her own briefly. She had been back in her family home for a single night when her life was cut short.
We thought that we had a life insurance policy for Sabrina, but we didn’t realize that it covered her only through the age of 19. When she turned 20 in February, that coverage disappeared, and we discovered this only as we were looking into what we had available to pay her final expenses. We are reaching out to those around us for help. Any small bit you can give will be a bit of burden lifted so we can focus on what is most important right now – learning to navigate a life without this brilliant light.
Hold your loved ones close. Call that friend you’ve been meaning to talk to. Make sure someone else knows how to access your phone and computer.
Organized by Jennifer Kelsay
Loveland, CO