I tell myself that it just can’t be so—that one of the best friendships I ever had, was when I was too young to appreciate the beauty and balance of the deep connection we had. But some times I wonder if I have already experienced the pinnacle of depth and sharing we had way back when…
Christopher (aka Topher or Toph) bounced into my life a lot like Tigger bounced into the lives of Winnie the Pooh and friends. Not the best alliteration, but the best I can do at the moment. Just days before the new school year began, he drifted into our quiet mundane “never-think-outside the box” Baptist Sunday school class like a Tigger to be sure. He came in, took a seat and without a moment’s hesitation, introduced himself with a “Hi! I’m Tope,” which was to spark years of debate on whether or not he said “Toph” or “Tope.” [It’s rather obvious where I stand on the issue, I think.] He was instantly a curiosity to us all!
It just seemed like he had no fear. He certainly wasn’t afraid of us. I mean what other anonymous 14 year old walks into a junior high/senior high Sunday school class of 15 others and promptly introduces himself with all the confidence of a prince meeting his royal subjects! And with this one, his confidence didn’t end there. I seem to remember him answering a question or two or making a comment even on that first day he arrived. There was no apparent awkwardness on his part at all.
Unlike most other boys my age at church, things with Topher were drastically different from the start. I hadn’t grown up with this one. We hadn’t met in the church nursery as toddlers or fought over perfect attendance in Sunday school. We hadn’t been forced to attend each other’s silly birthday parties or argued over who memorized the most verses for vacation Bible school ribbons. We were perfect strangers and yet I was soon to learn that we were more like kindred spirits.
He was friendly from the start. It was hard not to like him, and believe me, I tried. He wasn’t the prince charming I had already filled my 13-year old head with. He was certainly no ideal of mine, and since I was already on a passionate quest for my future mate, I didn’t need to waste my time with less than potential. He was a distraction I just couldn’t allow.
He was a thin, lanky boy with glasses and a big goofy grin and was recognized almost at once as a bit of a nerd. He was smart, really smart, and though I tried, I couldn’t ignore that. He knew too much, and it was all I could do to feign disinterest and listen in silence. But my quest for knowledge was too intense, and I couldn’t fight him off for long. He knew more than I did on just about everything—stuff like stars and space ships, books, religion, history and science--just to name a few. He had a factoid or some data to provide on just about every subject that someone would bring up, and to me, he was quite fascinating from the beginning, and I couldn’t hide my admiration for long.
To complicate matters, his arrival coincided rather nicely with my juncture into the world of middle school. I was entering 7th grade and he was merging into 8th. Much to my detriment, it was soon noted that we would be going to the same private school, and since we lived a mere 2 blocks away from each other, we would also be carpooling to catch the same van for our 30-minute ride to school. And to further aggravate my melancholy, since our private school was quite small, we would also be in the same classroom due to the fact that the 7th and 8th graders met for part of their studies together. There was no escaping fate. We couldn’t be strangers. We were going to be thrown together a lot. It was going to be agony or was it…
When you’re 13, everything seems so drastic, and my world was changing all too quickly. This horrid rival of mine arrived much to my dismay and won everyone over to his side. He was so at ease and made friends rather quickly. Everybody knew Topher! No one was above or below his notice. And while I tried to put off his friendship for the first couple of weeks, I just couldn’t escape it altogether, and I soon caved. It turned out that his friendship was just what I needed.
And nerd or not, Toph was the best. He might have been a brainiac, but he also had a great sense of humor. He could toss around sarcasm and wit like no one else, and yet he was also perceptive to know when there was a need for sensitivity especially around girls. And believe me, I was quite the moody girl to contend with. I was at that awkward stage—thinking I was ready to be an adult, but launching into hysteria over another girl looking at me funny or talking to a boy I liked. But Topher was the ever patient friend, gently coaxing me out of my melancholy fits or making me laugh at something silly just to get my mind off something truly petty. It was hard to stay mad at him. He was so apologetic and always the first to own up to a misunderstanding although 9 out of 10 times, it was my doing to begin with.
Toph was a great communicator. We would spend hours discussing any number of subjects—like what we were going to be when we grew up [he was to be a doctor, and I was to be a cop!] and where we were going to college; what Shakespearean play was better or which Bible character we most wanted to meet; which politician was correct or what tax plan was best. I would sit mesmerized by his range of ideas, thoughts and opinions. He was so full of vitality, and I was often struck by how remarkable his mind worked. He would daily stretch my mind—making me think outside the box and see something else beyond my own bubble.
And while I had ideas, thoughts and opinions of my own, I wasn’t as sure of myself or as keen to share. I wasn’t as willing to think things through for myself or as willing to dig as deeply or wade into the pool of knowledge as often as he did, but he could always get me to open up. And he’d always listen to my thoughts even though they were often trivial to his own. To be honest, I was more immersed in the silly and trite world around me. More obsessed with what to wear and who was into whom than discussing philosophy, science or the arts. But he was the ever patient tutor…always willing to listen to the mundane silliness I was fascinated with and guide me along as best he could when the time arrived.
He was my trusted confidante. He endured hearing all about my girl school crushes and even ventured a time or two in trying to help me overcome my shyness with the opposite sex. He listened tirelessly to my daily escapades of junior high and senior high drama. He didn’t care who was dating whom or what so and so said about someone. Those things didn’t matter to him, but he’d listen anyway.
He introduced me to different music. He loved classical pieces and loved to be there when I heard something for the first time. Listen to the melody, Mel! Isn’t that whimsical? He’d sing Phantom of the Opera lyrics on the phone just to make me cheer me up. He got me hooked on the Phantom, and to this day, I can’t listen to it without thinking fondly of him.
During the school year, we’d talk at school, and when he switched schools, we’d talk endlessly on the phone or meet up somewhere on our bikes for a ride and a chat. We’d see each other a couple of times a week at least at church and youth group functions. We’d gab, sing choruses loudly or act silly just for the heck of it! He always knew what to do to make me laugh.
Our summers were spent at church camp and exploring our small town via our bicycles. We’d take long rambling bike excursions around our town, sometimes leaving our parents a bit concerned by our late arrivals home. We’d go to the lake and just walk the pier or visit the Dairy Queen before heading home. We’d take a side trip to the berry farm or explore a road we’d never ridden down before.
We had our fair share of scrapes along the way. We once had a friend that ran away from home and secretly kept in touch with us while he was away. Of course, he was a runaway, and we got in trouble for keeping silent about what we knew. There was also the time that he had me hold some wires together for him on some experiment he was conducting and next thing I knew, we were listening in on a wireless phone conversation. [I wonder if the FCC is still looking for us?] Not to the mention the time that we almost started a fire in his dining room…
We had our opinions about how things should be and what should change at our church, too. I was more of a quick-tempered girl, and he was the patient and dutiful son, willing to grin and bear it rather than strive against his elders for change. More than once, he’d calm me down before I did or said something I would regret later. We’d have deep theological conversations quite often, where he would challenge me and get me to rethink my beliefs and determine what I was basing my faith in.
Topher also had his share of secrets and pain. There were some things I knew about then and things I learned about later that still sadden me. Some things I chose to ignore, some things I wanted to fight but he wouldn’t let me and still others that I didn’t understand. I knew even then that there was a sadness to him…a depth that even I couldn’t get to. I tried to understand, but I always knew there was more to it. But to me, he was the best friend I had ever had, and I was so happy to have his friendship.
And then one day, we grew up and somehow, it got away…We kept in touch via sporadic phone calls, letters and occasional holiday visits, but soon even those were just memories. And now it's been years since we've talked and yet somehow, lately, he keeps coming to mind again, and I’m missing him more than ever. Love ya, Toph!
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