Introduction
ROD STEWART’S FAMILY SHATTERED BY A DEATH NO ONE WAS READY FOR — CHRISTINA WAS ONLY 38
There are moments when fame suddenly becomes meaningless. The concerts, the photographs, the applause and the famous family name all disappear behind something painfully ordinary: a family receiving news it never imagined it would have to face. For those surrounding Sir Rod Stewart, one such moment arrived in the spring of 2025, when his daughter-in-law Nicole Stewart revealed that her beloved older sister, Christina Nicole Artukovich, had died at only 38 years old.
Christina died on March 31, 2025, and Nicole announced the devastating loss publicly two days later. The news immediately reached the wider Stewart family because Nicole is married to Liam Stewart, Rod Stewart’s son with former model Rachel Hunter. Yet behind the famous connections was a grief that had nothing to do with celebrity. This was, first and foremost, the loss of a sister, daughter, mother, partner and friend.
Nicole’s tribute made clear just how central Christina had been to her life. She described her older sister as her lifelong best friend and protector, the person who could make others feel seen, loved and safe. Most strikingly, Nicole portrayed Christina as the emotional glue holding people together. It was not the language of a carefully prepared public statement. It read like the words of someone trying to understand how an ordinary day could suddenly divide life into before and after.
For longtime followers of Rod Stewart, the story carried an added poignancy because his public image has always contained two very different worlds. There is Rod the performer—the unmistakable voice behind decades of rock and pop history—and there is Rod the family patriarch, surrounded by children, grandchildren and an extended family that has grown increasingly visible in later years. When tragedy reaches such a family, celebrity cannot soften the impact. If anything, the photographs of weddings, babies and celebrations make the sudden absence feel even more startling.
Penny Lancaster, Rod Stewart’s wife, responded publicly to Nicole’s announcement with condolences, describing the news as heartbreaking. Liam Stewart also mourned his sister-in-law in deeply personal terms, writing that Christina had been one of his closest friends and expressing how much he already missed having her around. Rachel Hunter similarly offered sympathy to Nicole and her family, remembering Christina’s powerful energy and generous heart. Their messages revealed a woman who had become far more than an in-law on the edges of the Stewart family. She had clearly become part of its emotional fabric.
The timing made the loss feel particularly cruel. Only weeks earlier, Liam and Nicole had welcomed their second child, a daughter named Elsie, following the birth of their son Louie. The young family had recently been living through one of life’s happiest chapters. Liam and Nicole had also married in Dubrovnik, Croatia, in May 2024, an occasion Rod publicly celebrated with pride. Less than a year later, joy and mourning were suddenly occupying the same family story.
Christina’s own obituary offers an even clearer picture of what was lost. Born on November 12, 1986, she was remembered for her love of life and the happiness she brought to the people around her. She was part of a large Croatian Catholic family and was survived by her son Roko, her partner Ante Marijanovic, her mother Tina, her siblings—including Nicole—and a large circle of relatives. Her funeral was kept private, a reminder that despite public interest surrounding the Stewart name, the deepest part of this loss belonged to the family alone.
There is a reason stories like this stop readers in their tracks. Thirty-eight feels impossibly young. At that age, families expect more birthdays, more photographs, more Christmas gatherings, more ordinary telephone calls. They expect time. When that expectation is suddenly broken, the smallest memories can become the most valuable ones.
For older readers, that reality may be painfully familiar. With age comes an understanding that the people who hold families together are not always the loudest or most celebrated. Sometimes they are simply the ones who call every day, remember everyone’s worries, protect younger siblings, organize gatherings and somehow make a room feel warmer by entering it. Only when they are gone does the full size of their presence become clear.