A Life Develops

Peace was born into one of the old families from Kaitaia in the north of the North Island of New Zealand, the Matthews. The family history goes back to one of the first missionaries in the area, Joseph Matthews. He had arrived in the north during the year 1832 under the auspices of the Church Missionary Society and two years later he set up the Kaitaia Mission Station. He was ordained a deacon in September 1844 and a priest in August 1858. The Bishop of Auckland addressed the Synod on 20 October 1896, a year after the death of the Reverend Joseph Matthews, and said he was "a man of simple faith, and though not a scholar, was always a reverent and thoughtful student of Holy Scripture, and a man of exemplary life."

It is this quite ordinary Reverend Joseph Matthews, her great- great-grandfather whom Peace often harks back to as the reason for her returning to the Christian Church. She sometimes says about her involvement in the Christian Church that it was in her genes. My response to this comment is that I don't think there is a genetic component to our make-up which stipulates what religion we belong to. However, her feeling for the Reverend Matthews goes very deep. She seems to remember that she learnt about him very early in her life, probably at school in Kaitaia. Further, she almost had a feeling of adoration towards him — certainly she was, and still is, very proud of him.

She remembers her early days in the countryside of Kaitaia with great fondness and says in her journal that it was "an interesting and venturesome childhood." Many enjoyable moments were spent playing alongside the river alone, where she recalls she taught herself to swim by simply jumping into the river and automatically beginning to dog-paddle. No parents were around. Today she says she can still see the river flowing down with its strong current into which she jumped and began swimming. Her love of water she suggests was really beyond the normal — obsessive almost. When talking about this feeling she has for the water, Peace who is a water sign, a Scorpio, laughingly says, "It was part of who I was — must have been a fish." On holidays and weekends her father would take them (there were two other children in the family) walking for miles through the swamps, over the sand hills and onto Ninety Mile Beach, on the west coast of Northland. Granddad was looking for Maori stones and relics although apparently he didn't find much. One important moment she does remember is the time they took their two pet bantams with them on their walk and "the little hen laid eggs."

Peace has very little to say about her mother in her journal notes except, "There was no relationship with her that I can remember like there was with our father." Yet, it is with the death of her mother that she turns to the Christian Church as a thirty-seven-year-old adult.

The Depression years brought difficulties for Granddad. He had a grocery business and gave people food expecting them to pay later, and of course many did not have the money to repay him. He went into bankruptcy and the family left Kaitaia for Auckland. Peace's father eventually became a successful strawberry grower in Auckland. It was here in the early 1930s that her parents separated. This would have been an unusual occurrence for the period but it was probably helped by the fact that Nana received three thousand pounds in an inheritance from her father. He was a 'remittance man' — someone who was the black sheep of a well-to-do family in England, the Sheldums, and who was paid to stay in New Zealand and not return to the homeland. When he died the family in England ensured that what was owed his family was paid out. As Peace explains, "It was a lot of money then and that was probably how we survived."

It is important to emphasise here that as a child growing up in Kaitaia and during her teenage years in Auckland, Peace had no background in the Christian Church, apart from her personal veneration of the Reverend Joseph Matthews. The three children went to Sunday school and were confirmed in the Anglican Church but, as Peace writes, "It meant nothing to me." If there was any cultural influence with regard to Christianity in some parts of the Matthews family at the time, it did not touch my mother's family. In fact Peace still remembers her mother making a comment about religion, or the church, which was something like "there is nothing there." Furthermore, unlike Peace, her brother and sister never became interested in Christianity. I mention these facts about growing up without a family tradition within the church so as to counter the argument, which could be made, that when Peace did have her 'religious conversion' she was simply returning to her cultural roots. However, she did not have any roots or early foundation in the Christian Church.

Her teenage years were nothing special. She tells us they "were not happy times. I did not understand life, sex or anything else, and had no inclination to delve into things and find out." There were only two years spent at high school and then a year at a business college where she was only interested in "just passing" so that she could get a job in the government service. There was never any stimulation or encouragement with regard to her education. It was not until later in her life that ambition appeared and when she went back to night school she excelled in her shorthand typing exams eventually to work as a shorthand typist in the police department near where we lived. One of my friends has helped me decipher the shorthand notes Peace has dotted throughout her books. This friend is very surprised by the level of my mother's shorthand and says that it is almost perfect and certainly very sophisticated. Peace would be very pleased to hear these thoughts and I can see her big smile.

Life became more interesting for Peace when she started to holiday with girlfriends and, as she tells us, "found the attraction of boys and realised they found me attractive." She then started to go to dances in Auckland with girlfriends. These were public dances and were lots of fun. She says, "Sometimes we would be taken home by partners we met there. No sex, drink or anything else was involved in those relationships." The period was the mid-to-late 1930s and these were obviously enjoyable times for my mother, almost innocent times when compared with the stories of excess alcohol and drugs that surround the youth of today. Peace met my father, Alan, at one of these dances and remembers "he was handsome in a rugged sort of way and had plenty of personality." Two years later, in 1939, they were married. She was twenty-one years old and my father was twenty-five.

The early years of my parents' marriage were very happy. When we talk about their relationship, which was often troubled in their later years, Peace often repeats to me what a friend told her about those first years. Apparently, the friend said she had never seen a couple more in love. I remember my father in his last years as a partying type of man but it seems he could have always had that inclination. Peace tells us in her memoirs that "he introduced me to balls and night clubs." They had no material possessions and when they arrived back from their honeymoon they had "two pounds in cash and our jobs, which didn't earn very much." He worked at the plant research gardens and Peace was a typist in a government office. They were, she says, "idyllically happy." One of the stories my father told of these early days was when they were in the countryside. Peace was standing on the top of a hill, he called her, and she ran straight down and fell into his arms. Always he would say, "She didn't cross the hill as most would, she simply ran straight down." He enjoyed repeating this story and I do so now as I think it reveals something of my mother in her early days. It shows that she was very trusting of my father at the time and perhaps more significantly for this story of discovery it identifies her fearlessness. This was a word my father often used when describing the Peace of their early time together.

Then the Second World War intervened in their relationship and changed not only the world as a whole but their own little world too. With the conscription of married men Alan went off to serve in the Pacific Islands. Peace remembers that the "Kiwi soldiers there were called 'coconut bombers'. Not very flattering terminology but at least he didn't go to Crete or Casino and get killed." His brother, Stan, went to Casino and was killed and so my beloved cousin, Barbara, was left without her father. We were lucky. My mother went to stay with Nana while Alan was away in the islands. Peace had a fling with an American marine during this period, something she hasn't written about in her journal, but still remembers to this day. He must have made an impression. Her response to me when I encourage her to talk about this time is simply, "Things were different in the war years." Alan was away in the islands for two years and on his return met with an accident which meant his army service came to an end. Peace notes that the government was "very good to returned servicemen, training them in various work skills and helping them financially." Alan went to bricklaying school for two years. However, through the years of discussing family matters Peace has often said, "The war changed your father." Whenever I talked to him about his time in the islands it seemed to me that he had had a pretty easy time. Perhaps he glossed over his experience — I could imagine him doing that. Perhaps the changes came about because of the two years he spent only with men.

When she writes about this early period after the war Peace recalls the amount of money that they had to spend. For instance, the flat they rented cost them twenty-eight shillings a week and Alan earned five pounds a week when he went to bricklaying school. There was not a lot of money to go around and this is confirmed in a remark Peace makes in her journal, "Into this world of poverty yet contentment and happiness, arrived Kay." She writes that at the time she did not know it was poverty although she remembers the amount of money they had then "possibly because we really had none!" After he completed his training as a bricklayer Alan went out to work for himself. He had men working for him and as my mother says "he prospered." He was a good provider. The memories of those early years of poverty have obviously stayed with her though.

Peace writes down her thoughts on having me, her first child. It was, she said, "a wonderful experience" and one which of course brought change to their lives. There was "so much joy in caring for this baby." I have included these thoughts on her first baby because, unlike many women, this was not a natural inclination for my mother. She suggests to me that the only reason she had children was "because, at the time, that was what you did when you got married." Later in her journal she apologises to us, her children, for not being much of a mother. She admits to us, "My two children — Kay and Dennis — it was a struggle to be a good mother to you. My previous lives couldn't have been rearing children; that's why it was so difficult for me this time. I loved the babies, but the rearing and caring for them was not natural to me." Throughout my life I have said to friends that Peace wasn't much of a mother. I do not mean that in the derogatory way the words imply. When I have said this I am thinking of that maternal instinct which is natural to most women and produces cuddles of comfort and warm loving words for their children. I do not remember these comforts in the world of my childhood and neither does my brother. But I look at her today and think how grateful I am that I have her as she is now, a role model for me to follow. How proud I am of her — her strength of character, her deep moral sense and her love and joy of life.

Perhaps I am more my mother's daughter than I realise because babies and children do not leave me feeling warm and fuzzy either. I do not have children and indeed have not ever wanted to have any. Even today I have no regrets about that decision made many years ago. Further, I almost feel out of my depth, rather like my mother, when talk of babies and children crops up amongst the grandmothers that are some of my friends now. Moreover, Peace and I rarely kiss each other or even give each other a hug. It is simply something that we are not used to doing. How unnatural some will say, but then I will say, you should see the way we laugh and smile together.

Slowly it seems my mother's life began to unravel. With a loan from the government my parents were able to buy a piece of land in the eastern suburbs of Auckland and Alan used his bricklaying skills to build the family home. Then began what Peace describes as "our worst years." With a local group of neighbours they began to make 'home brew'. This was the early 1950s so it is rather difficult to even imagine what was involved in making this concoction. Peace says they all neglected their children and she writes of this time as being "too painful to think about, let alone write about." Many years later (2013) in hospital and in great pain she still remembered these times with despair. She cried out in hospital "What have I done to deserve this?" Then she stopped, looked at me and said, "Those years — they were awful, Kay!" What a strong mark this experience left upon her. My mother has told me of one occasion when my father's sister arrived at the house to find us children alone. All she had to do was listen for the noise of a party to find my parents. Peace can recall the telling off she got from her sister-in-law but the fun carried on for a little longer. I remember these uproarious days spent by my parents with their friends. There were card games of Canasta, parties at the weekends, and many Saturday afternoons spent drinking alcohol — there always was alcohol involved.

As a child I thought these were times full of gaiety and laughter but I also remember the despair I saw in my mother on one of these nights of partying. It was during a gathering at our house and I was in the kitchen, where the drinks were being poured, when I saw my mother crush a small, and very thin, whisky glass in her hand. It is interesting that I saw her agitation and even that I was in the kitchen at that very moment. I was not aware that anyone else saw what had happened. At the time I did not understand the feeling behind her action but I knew something was very wrong for my mother. I find it difficult to recall much of my childhood but this picture of my mother crushing a glass in her hand is still crystal clear. Even today I can see the pattern and colour of the trimming on that glass. I think about it now and feel that there must be a reason for my memory. Perhaps it was a significant moment of feeling close to my mother. Something I do not remember feeling very often as a child. Possibly, it was an early hint of the closeness that was to come so much later in our lives. With my mind I can explain this incident as probably a reaction to the frustration of her life and her need for something else to fulfil her. But why I had to see this episode in her life is another matter. When I ask her about it now, she remembers the event and she, also, can see the colour of the trim on the glass — it was gold. She explains the moment as being when she "all of a sudden saw what that life was and that it must finish." The exact timing of the occasion has disappeared but perhaps this very strong and even desperate act helps to explain the extent of her inner despair and why, when she did start her 'journey', it was so determined.

It was on her mother's death in 1955 that Peace began her life's journey. She writes, "My world fell apart when my mother died." Over the years the children had become closer to their mother and her death from cancer in her late fifties was a painful shock to them. However, it was Peace who seemed most affected by the death. She explains herself as "being traumatised by her death." As early as Nana's funeral my mother's life began to change. Her attention was caught by something that was read from the scriptures during the funeral service. The particular passage read from the Bible has been forgotten but in her journal she recalls "as though it was yesterday", she couldn't get away from the crowd at the funeral quick enough. All she wanted to do was sit and be alone with the words she had just heard. She remembers thinking to herself "Is that possible, is that really possible?" Peace says today, "It was as though I had heard the Christian gospel for the first time." She emphasises that it was not the sermon or anything the minister said at the funeral that made her sit up and take notice. The words of Jesus were the catalyst that turned her life around. The words "touched my soul", she says. Another day, she explains this moment in time as being when she learnt "that there was another dimension to living." She writes there was "no more drinking, home brew and other escapades we got up to, that was for me anyway." For the first time in her life she began to question what life was about and she turned to the church and the Bible. A religious conversion followed and she became, as she describes in her own words, "a narrow born-again Christian."