As You Wave Me Goodbye

Five

(Photo: Me dancing at a school ball with head boy Manu Wilson, 1955)

Dad and I moved into a little block of flats near the end of the city. It wasn't as big and chaotic as any of the English cities I'd visited, nor was it as small and bleak as our home street back in Liverpool; our new home was in the comfy middling part of the spectrum.

To make things even better, Aroha didn't live too far away. I could walk to her house in less than ten minutes. I quite liked Aroha and she seemed to like me. The two of us managed to stay friends for the entirety of my 15 year stay in New Zealand; we're still friends to this day.

I went to school and managed to make even more friends. I found extremely bizarre; back in England, none of the other kids wanted anything to do with me or John. Their mothers probably thought we were a bad influence. But here in New Zealand, no one knew who I was or what circumstances I came from. It was a completely fresh start, and I made friends with nearly all the children in my Year 1 classroom.

I was mostly distracted by schoolwork, my friends, and spending time with my father, but I still missed John terribly. I often cried myself to sleep, wishing that I could slide into his bed for a cuddle like we'd done so many times in the past... but I couldn't do that.

Johnny was all the way on the other side of the world, miles and miles away. I couldn't visit him, let alone climb into his bed for some comfort. So I had to make do with writing letters.

Here's one I wrote during my first month in New Zealand, just after I'd gotten pretty well settled.

Dear Johnny,
I miss you so much. I wish you were here in New Zealand with me. (I had to get Daddy to help spell that out!) It's so nice here. And guess what! They have Christmas in the summertime! Daddy and I are going to have a picnic on the beach instead of a proper Christmas dinner. It's going to be so much fun!

I felt a bit guilty for sounding so happy in my letter, and so I added:

But it won't be the same without you, Johnny. And Mummy, too, of course! How is Mummy? Is she happy at home in England with you? Do you still have to give her cuddles when she cries? Tell her I love her and miss her very, very, very much.

Please write back to me soon, Johnny. I love you.

From Tracy

Then I embellished the bottom of the paper wuth hugs and kisses. I even drew a little picture of me and John, hands linked and big smiled on our faces. I also included a photo of myself and attatched it to the letter with a paperclip.

I received a reply two weeks later.

Deer Tracy
Mummy and I miss you lots. Wen will you be coming home? I wish you werr heer. I had Coco Pops for brekfest.

Love from yor Johnny

I was a bit upset to receive such a disappointingly short letter, but I knew I couldn't really blame poor Johnny. He wasn't too good at writing: the words whirled around in a torrent in his mind, but he struggled to get them down on paper. I'd had to help him a lot when I was still living at home.

This correspondence carried on for a long time, then the letters began to dwindle as John and I grew up. I was getting a bit more preoccupied with other things (namely school, outings with my father, and my new friends) and I assume John was, too.