"Topher"

In March of 2002, Jaime and I exited the exhausting train ride from London to Edinburgh (E-den-burrah) and met up with Chris for the second time. The first time was only a few months prior when he'd stopped over briefly in LA on his way from New Zealand to Scotland, and now it was our turn to visit him.

Chris fell into a familiar comrodery with us and instantly became our "brother." He and Jaime had an amusing banter, and he understood our sense of humor and dished it as well as he took it. We were floored that anyone could catch on to our humor and mesh so well with us- let alone a guy . . . and a foreigner.

The three of us took a road trip through the Highlands of Scotland, and then spent a couple of nights in London where Chris quickly learned that the things that guys don't normally think about are extremely IMPORTANT to girls, and although he never complained, I am positive we were a bit higher maintenance than he was used to after traveling solo for almost a year. Jaime and I made up the nickname "Toph" for him during our hours crammed in the car together and he now prefers the name.

While getting to know more about Chris, I also learned more about Natalie's death. She'd been born with a heart defect and in fact, the length of her life was well beyond what it should have been- it was just never diagnosed. Chris described the events of her last day to me and took me to the pub where he & Nat had been working the day Jaime met up with them years before and until Natalie's death. It was the first time I'd walked into a place and felt an "absence" of her. To me, her letters simply stopped coming, and it was hard to grasp the idea that it wasn't a great distance that was keeping her "away". Walking into that pub with Chris and Jaime hit me in a way I hadn't prepared myself for. I realized I still had a lot of work to do to let her go.

On the last day of our trip, we packed up our room to catch the tube to the airport while Chris was glued to the TV. We told him we were on our way out and it didn't occur to him to walk us to the door, so I flat out asked him to so we could say goodbye before we went into the tunnel. I chuckle at that because it is something my own brother would have forgotten to do, so to Jaime and me- it meant we'd become family.

It occurred to me not long after that trip that Chris' friendship with us Wanke sisters would never have developed the way it did had the circumstances been different. For the first time, I actually saw something positive growing out of a tragic loss, and it felt funny, but I thanked God for the chance to get to grow a friendship with Chris the way that we did after our time as a traveling trio.

The next time we saw Chris was when we were back in New Zealand briefly in 2004. He had stopped traveling for awhile and settled in Auckland where he'd met an English girl- Geraldine. They'll wed December 16th of this year in England. Jaime and I were thrilled to see him in love with someone so sweet.

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.