INDIANAPOLIS — Nick Schoonveld was a lover of coloring books, eating McAllister’s pizza and mac-n-cheese with his Friday Lunch Bunch, listening to oldies music, especially “Sweet Caroline,” competing in the Special Olympics, and he was a kind, gentle soul who loved his family with a fierce loyalty.
Nick died last week after a brief illness. He was 44.
Nick’s story stole the hearts of the nation when he was adopted at 35 by Kristin Schoonveld, then 49, who had never been married or had children. Months after adopting Nick, Kristin found out she had a biological son, Parker Erickson, from an egg donation decades before.
In a made-for-TV moment in 2019, Kristin got to meet the son she didn’t know and introduce him to her new son, Nick. The story went viral, with people reaching out to the Schoonvelds from all over the world. National media latched on to this story of unconditional love and hope.
Kristin, who was adopted as a baby, had nannied for Nick and his sister in college. Their parents, Brian and Grace Schoonveld, saw the connection Nick had with Kristin, how he lit up when she was around.
Nick stole Kristin’s heart, too. He was stubborn and sweet. He was funny and loved to color. They spent that summer doing everything together, trips to Glendale Mall, to the zoo and out to eat at the Cooker, Nick’s favorite restaurant and watching a lot of “Wayne’s World.”
“Life eventually took us in different directions,” Kristin says. “And we lost touch with each other.”
Kristin went on with her life, but she never forgot Nick.
Then, nearly three decades later, working in her career with adults with special needs, Kristin ran into Nick again. His mother was battling cancer. Kristin stepped in to help with Nick.
When Grace died, Kristin started spending even more time with Nick and, along the way, she fell in love with his father, Brian. After the two married, Kristin adopted Nick in the same court room where she had been adopted nearly five decades before.
And from the time she became Nick’s mother, Kristin never left his side, says Brian, minus a handful of days where she was a Special Olympics partner for the national games in Florida.
“It’s just unbelievable to say how fortunate it was for our Nick and I to have Kristin at the time we did,” Brian says. “She was there every minute at every turn for anything he needed. What more could you want for him?”
‘He was always a walking miracle’
Nick, who had Down syndrome, battled major health issues from the day he was born on April 27, 1982.
“So, he was always a walking miracle,” Kristin says. “But, that being said, we were not expecting this.”
Last month, Kristin and Nick were on one of his favorite trips of the year to Florida for a big bash to celebrate family birthdays, including his and Kristin’s 90-year-old mother.
But the day of the birthday bash, Kristin started seeing signs that Nick wasn’t feeling well. She thought it might be an upper respiratory infection, because she noticed his labored breathing.
“The day of the party, he didn’t feel well, but he rallied, he went to that party,” Kristin says. But when it came time to leave for their two and a half day drive back to Indiana, Nick was really sick.
As soon as they got home, Kristin took Nick to the emergency room for what she thought would be a chest X-ray that might reveal, at worst, pneumonia
Doctors found it wasn’t a respiratory issue at all. This was Nick’s heart.
When he was born, Nick had an atrial septal defect, which is a congenital heart defect common among babies who have Down syndrome, characterized by a hole in the septum, the wall that separates the heart’s two chambers.
Inside the hospital, Brian and Kristin learned that Nick’s ASD repair he’d had as a baby had become faulty, and his blood was shunting in his heart between the two chambers. Doctors stabilized Nick and set up a May appointment for him at Riley Hospital for Children’s adult congenital heart disease clinic.
But a couple of days later, Nick was back in the hospital, and “things were quickly going downhill,” Kristin says. He was flown to Methodist Hospital where a procedure revealed doctors wouldn’t be able to fix Nick’s heart. The damage was irreversible.
As his kidneys and liver began shutting down, Nick became unresponsive. But the night he died, Nick suddenly became alert for about an hour. He was smiling, telling his family he loved them. They sang “Happy Birthday” to Nick and when Brian held up his finger like a candle, Nick blew it out.
When the doctor came in to tell the family that Nick was probably not going to live through the night, he told them how sorry he was.
“And he said, ‘I’m going to go home tonight and put on my tank top, as a tribute to Nick,'” Kristin says. Nick loved to wear tank tops any chance he got, especially tie-dye tank tops, because he looked good in a tank top, even if it was freezing outside.
When Nick died, a speaker was playing his favorite oldies radio station, and the people he loved most were all around him.
“He spent his final moments wrapped in peace and love,” Kristin says, “with his beloved Bunny Ears nestled on his chest.”
‘Nick was so special’
The post Kristin made to Facebook about Nick’s death, a picture of him with his favorite stuffed rabbit, received more than 22,000 likes. The comments came, again, from around the world. Brian and Kristin knew Nick was loved, but they really had no idea just how much.
And that’s a comfort to them, as are the memories they have about their beloved Nick, who they say had a way of making ordinary days feel like something worth celebrating.
Nick looked forward each week to meeting his army of friends at McAllister’s for his Friday Lunch Bunch. He loved doing color by numbers with paper and markers while watching early 1990s television dinosaurs and doing color by numbers on his iPad.
“Nick proudly identified as an Olympic-caliber athlete. Special Olympics brought him immense joy, purpose and connection throughout his life,” Kristin says. His favorite sport was bowling.
He was a firm believer in the magic of Christmas, his absolute favorite season. And he never left home without taking a bottle of rainbow sprinkles along with him, just in case an ice cream sundae or milkshake presented itself. And, he always had extra to share with friends.
“Nick was so special. He had a way of being quite the life of the party,” Kristin says, “but in his own quiet way.”
Remembering Nick
Visitation for Nick Schoonveld is 4 p.m. to 7 p.m. May 21 at Leppert Mortuary, 740 East 86th St. Another visitation will take place 1 p.m. May 22 at Geist Christian Church, 8550 Mud Creek Road prior to the service, which begins at 2 p.m. In lieu of flowers, the family welcomes donations to Washington Township Special Olympics—an organization that brought Nick joy, connection and a strong sense of purpose. Donations may be made online or by check mailed to Washington Township Special Olympics (WTSO), P.O. Box 40734, Indianapolis, IN 46240
Follow IndyStar sports reporter Dana Benbow on X: @DanaBenbow. Reach her via email: dbenbow@indystar.com.
This article originally appeared on Indianapolis Star: Nick Schoonveld, adopted at 35 by former nanny in viral story, dies at 44
Reporting by Dana Hunsinger Benbow, Indianapolis Star / Indianapolis Star
USA TODAY Network via Reuters Connect
