How our friendship formed a family

My sister Jaime, would cross paths with Natalie next- in London. 1996.

Natalie and her boyfriend Chris had gone overseas to Europe to work for two years-- their "Big Oie". Jaime was stopping through London on her way back from a missions trip to Africa, and after a very long day and mix up over buses, she reached the pub where Nat & Chris were working, and Chris recognized her right away. Natalie came in fuming in frustration over not being able to find Jaime at the bus stop uttering "I'm not happy to see you." Still, the two of them eventually ironed it all out, and shared greetings and hugs before each had to continue on their separate ways.

I am still jealous of that rotten exchange. Jaime had seen her again face to face. While I was still in the US writing her letters.

We rang in the New Year of 1997 with Natalie's father Bruce and brother David, who'd come to the States on a father/son excursion. Natalie had alerted me months before that things had been strained between her parents and her Mum was traveling solo in Europe, so I was not surprised to observe a sadness about Bruce, and he eventually let us know that he and Margaret (Natalie's "Mum") were separating when he returned to NZ.

My Mom spent time talking to Bruce about God, and the importance of forgiveness, but he swore, he could never forgive her for what she'd done. A few days before Bruce and David were to leave LA, Bruce had a massive heart attack and was hospitalized for a week. All of my relatives were there when Bruce was taken to the hospital, and I had to call Natalie to tell her what had happened. Margaret flew in to LA right away to comfort David, and be by Bruce's side. Bruce eventually healed enough to fly home but his attack had bonded the entire Vedder Family to us Wanke's.

My Mom got a call from Bruce a few weeks later thanking her for the care she showed for the Vedder family, and I remember overhearing her conversation as it shifted again to God and the importance of forgiveness and letting go of his anger. My Mom remembers it as a tough conversation, but for Bruce, I believe it was the beginning of his faith.

In the Spring of 1999, I was about to graduate college and preparing for my first Mission's trip over the summer. My sister and I drove home to meet up with my brother Brian who was home on leave, and a few friends at our house for some activity I can't remember. We got to the front door and it opened for us with one of our guy friends saying "something is wrong with your Mom- she's crying." My sister rushed in to attend to her but I felt embarrassed that my friends had over-heard the commotion from her bedroom. I had no idea what was going on, but I didn't want to deal with it and so, I took the longest route possible before forcing myself to enter the bedroom and finally see what what the matter.

My brother had just hung up the phone and was sitting in silence. My Dad, sat quietly on the bed, and my sister and mom were embraced in tears. My mind raced Dad has cancer, Mom is going to tell me she is getting a divorce (or dying). My Mom looked up and reached out for me. Come and sit down. She said. Just TELL me what is happening.

"Chrissie, Natalie is gone."

I didn't understand that statement. "Gone where?" I knew she was traveling overseas with her boyfriend Chris but she was going to come and visit me next - in just 4 more months. Did she go back to NZ early? Did she disappear or run off with someone? What?

But my logic argued with the looks on my families face. "Gone." She'd been running with Chris to catch a bus, but he looked back suddenly and she was laying in the street. He thought she'd only tripped. She was 22 years old. But she was - gone.

This time I was the one who locked myself in my room crying. Only, I hadn't gotten to say goodbye. I hadn't even seen my friend in 6 years! All I could do was feel sorry for myself because I didn't want to have to understand the permanence in the word "gone."

I had never met Natalie's boyfriend Chris, but knew all about him from her letters and tapes she'd sent to me during their courtship. She told me he was "the one." I wrote him a letter of condolence when I'd gotten up the nerve expecting never to hear back but he wrote me, and told me that he heard about me all the time, that I was so important to her, and that he had been looking forward to finally meeting me.