Beauty From Ashes

Two years ago today, there was a terrible plane crash in Arizona. Three people were onboard the small aircraft; pilot, Doug Kinneard, co-pilot Christian Nielson, and Christian’s beautiful wife Stephanie Nielson, known also as NieNie. Tragically, Doug perished from the accident, and while Christian and Stephanie were both burned, Stephanie’s burns covered almost all of her body.

I've never met any of these individuals, but I heard about the accident right away through a mutual friend who had commissioned some art work from Stephanie. Perhaps it's the flight attendant in me, but I've always had a kind of fascination with plane crashes...so it was that I started learning about the Nielsons.

The Nielsons have four small children, and Stephanie had, at the time of the accident, been a popular blogger whose specialty, in my opinion, is finding and sharing the joy and beauty of being a mother and wife and homemaker. She captured the light and simple happiness of everyday living with words and images, and when reading her blog I could see why so many people had been drawn to it. She has a lovely way of being, and had created such a perfect world for her family.

But when this tragedy struck, suddenly her perfect world was upended. Doctors kept Stephanie in a medically-induced coma for months while they worked to heal her body. Word of the crash spread. Her family was interviewed on a number of popular tv shows. Thousands of prayers, fasts, and donations and other types of support poured in from all over the earth for both the Kinneard and Nielson families. Stephanie’s burns were severe enough that it was touch-and-go for a while, but finally she turned a corner, and there was good reason to believe that she would live.

Fall came, and Stephanie woke up to her new reality. I can only imagine how it would be to emerge from a coma to find yourself in a hospital, and realize that a few months have passed since your last conversation. That your children have been moved to another state to live with your siblings. That they've had birthdays, and started school--all while you were sleeping.

How painful to learn that your husband was also badly burned, and your dear friend Doug had perished in the crash. That your flawless skin was almost all melted, and your beautiful hair you worked so hard to grow out was burned off. That your body was deeply injured and would yet require multiple surgeries and hours of painful therapy. That your daughters are scared to look at you when they can finally visit you in the hospital. That your baby boy thinks your sister, who has been caring for him since the crash, is his mom. That you don’t look anything like the you you used to be. That your life isn’t the life you used to have.

It was an awful lot to assimilate.

Fall came for me too, that year. I’d actually been feeling really happy, vibrant, and alive, and was looking forward to the future. But right about the time Stephanie woke up to her new reality, a series of devastating things kind of broadsided me in quick succession and broke my heart.

I embarked on a good-old fashioned identity crisis accompanied by a deep depression. I felt empty and devoid of hope.

I stopped blogging (among other things) for a few months, but right about that time, Stephanie started blogging again. As she regularly updated her readers about the journey she was on, I followed along silently. It may be a stretch, but in a strange way, I felt as though we had something in common. Stephanie had to reinvent herself, deal with pain, and reconstruct a life within the parameters of her new reality. I'm sure she struggled with depression, fear, loneliness, grief. She had to make peace with things as they are, mourn the loss of her former life, look at herself in the mirror and find her soul somewhere within the body that houses it.

One thing that has remained untouched by the fire are Stephanie’s beautiful green eyes. I remember imagining her looking deep inside her eyes to find herself, find her purpose.

I tried to do the same. And as I watched her pick up and carry on, I tried to do the same. As I followed her progress, eventually being released from the hospital and returning--not to her beautiful home in Arizona, but to a new home in Provo, Utah where they would be near her family and have the support and help they would need --I worked hard to build a supportive network around me that would help me as I pressed forward.

Little by little Stephanie’s body healed. Step-by-painful-step she healed. With her beloved family by her side, she moved forward, finding those moments of happiness and reasons to celebrate her life. (Just between you and me, I think she is better at it than I am, because of her earlier habit and ability to live joyfully…she’s got a talent for it.) But I watched from afar, and last year when the one year anniversary of that fateful crash approached, Stephanie invited anyone who wished to, to join her on a hike up to the Y on the mountain.

I was very depressed at the time, and that day in particular was a pretty hard one. Doc and the kids were away, and I was home alone. I had injured my knee -- which I toyed with using as an excuse to do nothing-- but at the last minute I mechanically got into my car, pointed it towards the freeway, and drove the hour down to Provo to hike that mountain. If Stephanie could do it, I could certainly climb it with her. But I did cry all the way there--felt so sad and bereft. Depression stinks that way.

When I got to the parking lot at the base of the trail, there were lots of people. Stephanie has quite a huge following on her blog now (she’s even been a guest on Oprah, to give you a sense of how broad her reach has grown!), and lots of them had come out to support her in her quest to hike to the Y.

Half-way up the trail, I encountered my dear friend Katie--the one who had first told me about the Nielsons a year before. What a happy surprise for me! It brightened my spirits a lot to see this sweet friend from our days in Chicago.

Shortly before we got to the top Stephanie and her family caught up to me, and we arrived at our destination about the same time. I had only been up to The Y one other time, twenty-two years ago, so it was fun to look out across the valley and remember the places where I first met and fell in love with My Doc.

Pictures were taken, and balloons were released. Lots of people surrounded the Nielson family. I didn’t feel up to introducing myself, but they did sit down just beside me on the Y, so I was very close to them. I just tried to soak up some of their aura and feel the peace of the moment.

Eventually we all started making our way down the mountain. Reaching the Y was a turning point for Stephanie--she had accomplished her goal of completing the hike by the one-year anniversary of the crash. And though I didn't realize it at the time, I think it was also a pivotal moment in my life. I had made an effort to get myself going, and I believe that when we try--even if it's a small effort, Heavenly Father blesses us in ways we can't expect.

On the way down the mountain, I noticed a nice, smooth rock, which I picked up. I didn't know what I was going to do with it, but as I carried it down the mountain I decided that I wanted to make something out of it for Stephanie and find a way to give it to her someday.

It took a while, but eventually I decided it would make a nice Anniversary Rock. What? You haven't heard of those? Well, neither have I, but but I thought I'd give it a go anyway, and if it was a bust I would just scrap the project and Stephanie would never know.

I got everything ready and put my idea to the test at last month’s Studio Night with wonderful artist Leslie Graff, who snapped this picture of me working on it.

I actually really like the finished product and hope Stephanie does, too.

Today, on the 2nd anniversary of that fateful crash, a lot has changed for both Stephanie and me. Even not knowing her, it's clear she's grown in many ways, and I have continued to be inspired by her outlook and way of being in this world.

I've had a good year too. Scratch that, I’ve had a great year! It feels almost like awakening from a long sleep for me as well. I've started to remember things that I had forgotten or blocked. I have felt happy and peaceful for months on end…which is really unheard of for me.

Like that critical moment when Stephanie’s body had healed enough that it looked like she was actually going to make it, I feel like in the past year I've somehow managed to heal enough from the past that my spirit is finally starting to thrive and live…without draining the amazing life-support team of loved ones that I’ve relied on so often to get by :-)

Part of this evolution has included beginning to have my own dreams and aspirations (More on that in future posts!). I've been slowly discovering myself and finding joy in the journey I'm on.

Life really is beautiful!

So here’s to endless chances to learn and grow! And to pressing on when times are stormy and difficult! And to following good examples! And making progress! And finding joy in this amazing life we all have! And to people with Deep Beauty…the only kind that actually matters! And to serving each other! And to learning to how to really live!

Thank you Stephanie for your part in my path! Kisses, ~Blue

Grateful for:
1) Beauty from ashes ♥