Shannon had such a big life and touched so many people, it’s hard to know where to begin. Other than our mother, Shannon was the closest person to me growing up. I was basically raised by my mom and sister. Many of my earliest memories are of the two of us, singing Disney songs together, watching The Breakfast Club on rerun, and of course, fights in the backseat of the car. Later in life, she was the cool big sister. And I wanted to be just like her. I have so many fond memories with Shannon, from the University of Florida to moving cross-country to Los Angeles and on to Atlanta. I would not have done many of these things if not for her. Shannon was my best friend. We laughed at everything together, our sense of humor was nearly identical. We bonded over music sharing two of our top three favorite bands. People even said we look alike, which I was never sure was a compliment or not. The bulk of my life was spent with Shannon; it’s hard to believe she’s gone. She was a shining star that... Read more burned out too soon.

I don’t know too many people that met Shannon and didn’t have something wonderful to say about her. She truly had a gift to connect to people, understand them, make them feel special and like they mattered. I believe she got this gift from our mother who also had a knack with people. Everyone’s life was brighter having known my sister, especially mine. People think Shannon was lucky to have me, but I was lucky to have her. I know I would not be the person I am today without her. She was always positive and believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. Because of her, my dreams were bigger, my achievements were bigger, my life was bigger. Shannon was fearless in her pursuits; she accomplished so much in her short life. She graduated from UF, double-majoring in Political Science and Theatre. She then graduated from UCLA Law. She obtained degrees from both institutions while enduring bone marrow transplants. Later she went to cosmetology school at the Aveda Institute in Atlanta.

I think it’s fair to say Shannon was dealt a rough hand from the start. In 1997, and again in 2004, she was diagnosed with Aplastic Anemia, an extremely rare disease in which the bone marrow quits producing red blood cells, white blood cells, and platelets. Even with a donor, chances of survival are still not 100%. Fortunately, I was a match. I was Bone Marrow Boy as Shannon liked to call me. Throughout both transplants, she had to undergo chemotherapy, hospital isolation, and months of recovery before returning to her normal life. Her oncologist declared her in remission in 2012, but she suffered from graft versus host disease, which caused numerous side effects both internally and externally. For years she took cancer-causing immunosuppressant drugs to suppress her immune system so her body would not reject my marrow.

Not only did Aplastic Anemia do tremendous damage to her body, it wreaked havoc on her mind. Doctors told Shannon she would not live passed 40 and would likely be barren. I can’t imagine hearing this as an 18 year-old. Living more than half of her life with a terminal illness resulted in clinical depression and PTSD. She was also told she may develop mental disorders later in life due to her extraordinary illness. As a young adult, her way of dealing with the condition was to not be emotional or vulnerable. She dealt with her illness by pushing it aside and pursuing her academic and career goals, leading many of us to forget that she was ever sick at all. Music, painting, and dancing also played significant roles in my sister’s healing.

Shannon viewed dance as therapy. In 2014, she was a research participant in one of my school projects. She tied her connection to music and dancing directly to her illness. She stated, quote, “It’s where problems don’t exist. When you’re not thinking of everything else going on in your life, therefore your anxiety is reduced. Moving and dancing to music makes you happy. You’re not feeling depressed. It’s all about the whole getting lost in the moment. That’s a lot of what Buddhist practice is, staying in the present.” My sister seemed to have found peace in those moments of presence on the dance floor. She also found peace through painting, which she spent a lot time doing the last five years. I think that’s one of the many reasons we all loved Shannon, she made us feel special every moment we were with her. We were present because we felt her presence.

In the summer of 2015, Shannon had her first psychotic break. Later that year, she was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder borderline Schizoaffective Disorder. Mental illness would prove to be the battle of Shannon’s life. She really struggled those last few years. During this time, her mind was changing and she was helpless to stop or reverse it. She lost many of her close connections, not because she OR we didn’t want them, but because she was trying to navigate her new reality that included mania, paranoia, and delusions. Losing our mother in 2021 and her dogs Osa and Kiki back-to-back was just too much to handle. She was hurting and trying to survive the only way she knew how, but I know she did not want to hurt herself and what happened was an accident.

She told me not too long ago that she knew she was never going to be the same again, and she hated her illness and what it had done to her. It just isn’t fair what happened to Shannon. In the end, I think she felt misunderstood and no longer accepted, and that’s what hurts the most. I think she felt alone, like she didn’t have anyone. That’s the tragedy of mental illness, not just because of what she went through, but it’s hard for us to understand and even when we try to help, relationships suffer. Unfortunately there were no easy answers or quick fixes, and I underestimated her ability to cope with her illness. The transplants may have saved her life before, I just wish I could’ve saved it again. Sometimes I feel I didn’t do enough and maybe I’ll always feel guilt for that.

Shannon recently told me she prayed to God frequently to take her. I think she was ready to go. I think she has been ready for a while. She felt she had a bigger purpose beyond this place. She came into our lives briefly, laughed with us, cried with us, danced with us, made us smile, made us feel special, then left as quickly as she arrived. Maybe that was her purpose here, to have a positive impact on all of us by leaving us better than she found us. I suppose death is what makes life beautiful, knowing that our time here is finite, to make the most of it and remember what is important. Shannon reminded us of that. When she died, a part of me died too, but a part of her and our mother will always live on in me because they make up so much of who I am. While my heart is broken that she is gone and I will never see my sister again in this life, a part of me feels that she is no longer suffering and is at peace with our mother in God’s kingdom. Some birds simply aren’t meant for this world, their feathers are too bright. That’s how I’ll always remember Shannon, and God called her home to be with our mother. Read less

Shannon had such a big life and touched so many people, it’s hard to know where to begin. Other than our mother, Shannon was the closest person to me growing up. I was basically raised by my mom and sister. Many of my earliest memories are of the two of us, singing Disney songs together, watching The Breakfast Club on rerun, and of course, fights in the backseat of the car. Later in life, she was the cool big sister. And I wanted to be just like her. I have so many fond memories with Shannon, from... Read more the University of Florida to moving cross-country to Los Angeles and on to Atlanta. I would not have done many of these things if not for her. Shannon was my best friend. We laughed at everything together, our sense of humor was nearly identical. We bonded over music sharing two of our top three favorite bands. People even said we look alike, which I was never sure was a compliment or not. The bulk of my life was spent with Shannon; it’s hard to believe she’s gone. She was a shining star that burned out too soon.

I don’t know too many people that met Shannon and didn’t have something wonderful to say about her. She truly had a gift to connect to people, understand them, make them feel special and like they mattered. I believe she got this gift from our mother who also had a knack with people. Everyone’s life was brighter having known my sister, especially mine. People think Shannon was lucky to have me, but I was lucky to have her. I know I would not be the person I am today without her. She was always positive and believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. Because of her, my dreams were bigger, my achievements were bigger, my life was bigger. Shannon was fearless in her pursuits; she accomplished so much in her short life. She graduated from UF, double-majoring in Political Science and Theatre. She then graduated from UCLA Law. She obtained degrees from both institutions while enduring bone marrow transplants. Later she went to cosmetology school at the Aveda Institute in Atlanta.

I think it’s fair to say Shannon was dealt a rough hand from the start. In 1997, and again in 2004, she was diagnosed with Aplastic Anemia, an extremely rare disease in which the bone marrow quits producing red blood cells, white blood cells, and platelets. Even with a donor, chances of survival are still not 100%. Fortunately, I was a match. I was Bone Marrow Boy as Shannon liked to call me. Throughout both transplants, she had to undergo chemotherapy, hospital isolation, and months of recovery before returning to her normal life. Her oncologist declared her in remission in 2012, but she suffered from graft versus host disease, which caused numerous side effects both internally and externally. For years she took cancer-causing immunosuppressant drugs to suppress her immune system so her body would not reject my marrow.

Not only did Aplastic Anemia do tremendous damage to her body, it wreaked havoc on her mind. Doctors told Shannon she would not live passed 40 and would likely be barren. I can’t imagine hearing this as an 18 year-old. Living more than half of her life with a terminal illness resulted in clinical depression and PTSD. She was also told she may develop mental disorders later in life due to her extraordinary illness. As a young adult, her way of dealing with the condition was to not be emotional or vulnerable. She dealt with her illness by pushing it aside and pursuing her academic and career goals, leading many of us to forget that she was ever sick at all. Music, painting, and dancing also played significant roles in my sister’s healing.

Shannon viewed dance as therapy. In 2014, she was a research participant in one of my school projects. She tied her connection to music and dancing directly to her illness. She stated, quote, “It’s where problems don’t exist. When you’re not thinking of everything else going on in your life, therefore your anxiety is reduced. Moving and dancing to music makes you happy. You’re not feeling depressed. It’s all about the whole getting lost in the moment. That’s a lot of what Buddhist practice is, staying in the present.” My sister seemed to have found peace in those moments of presence on the dance floor. She also found peace through painting, which she spent a lot time doing the last five years. I think that’s one of the many reasons we all loved Shannon, she made us feel special every moment we were with her. We were present because we felt her presence.

In the summer of 2015, Shannon had her first psychotic break. Later that year, she was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder borderline Schizoaffective Disorder. Mental illness would prove to be the battle of Shannon’s life. She really struggled those last few years. During this time, her mind was changing and she was helpless to stop or reverse it. She lost many of her close connections, not because she OR we didn’t want them, but because she was trying to navigate her new reality that included mania, paranoia, and delusions. Losing our mother in 2021 and her dogs Osa and Kiki back-to-back was just too much to handle. She was hurting and trying to survive the only way she knew how, but I know she did not want to hurt herself and what happened was an accident.

She told me not too long ago that she knew she was never going to be the same again, and she hated her illness and what it had done to her. It just isn’t fair what happened to Shannon. In the end, I think she felt misunderstood and no longer accepted, and that’s what hurts the most. I think she felt alone, like she didn’t have anyone. That’s the tragedy of mental illness, not just because of what she went through, but it’s hard for us to understand and even when we try to help, relationships suffer. Unfortunately there were no easy answers or quick fixes, and I underestimated her ability to cope with her illness. The transplants may have saved her life before, I just wish I could’ve saved it again. Sometimes I feel I didn’t do enough and maybe I’ll always feel guilt for that.

Shannon recently told me she prayed to God frequently to take her. I think she was ready to go. I think she has been ready for a while. She felt she had a bigger purpose beyond this place. She came into our lives briefly, laughed with us, cried with us, danced with us, made us smile, made us feel special, then left as quickly as she arrived. Maybe that was her purpose here, to have a positive impact on all of us by leaving us better than she found us. I suppose death is what makes life beautiful, knowing that our time here is finite, to make the most of it and remember what is important. Shannon reminded us of that. When she died, a part of me died too, but a part of her and our mother will always live on in me because they make up so much of who I am. While my heart is broken that she is gone and I will never see my sister again in this life, a part of me feels that she is no longer suffering and is at peace with our mother in God’s kingdom. Some birds simply aren’t meant for this world, their feathers are too bright. That’s how I’ll always remember Shannon, and God called her home to be with our mother. Read less