Little did I know when I was born all the pain I would see and feel. My turbulent journey, seeing my Nana's heartbreak to the day I lost her, through my own teenage heartache where I wanted my life to end, and then to being on a life-support machine after a car accident a few years later. Upon recovery, I entered a dark world of being a victim of domestic violence from which I had to make a dramatic escape. Finally, when things seemed more settled, I fell in love with a guy with a big secret. After many insights, I received from the obstacles that seemed insurmountable on my journey. I always felt in my heart that triumph would overcome adversity Through all troubles, try dancing when it rains, as I have over and over again! The epic, suffocating turmoils of Sara's life all had a gift in them, yet she didn't see clearly until she was much older. The painful experiences of childhood, teenage years, and onwards were all, she realised, created by her thoughts and beliefs. Many years of unfathomable emotional turbulence finally left her with the deep ingrained belief if only we all treated each other as we would wish to be treated, then this world would be a more positive place.

Dance in the Rain

By SARA LEYA

Balboa Press

Copyright © 2012 Sara Leya
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4525-6116-5

Chapter One

As a small child, when I heard at school of poor children in other countries, starving to death, I used to wish they had a Nana like mine because they would be loved and well fed. At the same time, I wished they didn't have a Grandad like mine because my Grandad hurt my Nana in a way only adults can comprehend and I was too young to know the reality of what he had done.

I loved my Nana's house when my Grandad wasn't at home. My Father's Mother, Nana Rose, lived half a mile down the road from where I lived, in Hastings seaside town. Every few days I would be taken to visit her as my Mother was pre-occupied with things I didn't understand and my Father was always out of town. I loved going to her house, it was the cosiest, warmest place and filled me with wonder, especially as I didn't like the atmosphere in my own home for unexplainable reasons. It had dower energy and no delight. Maybe it was because my Mother was always busy and I felt alone most of the time. I loved my Nana's dinners beyond words, they were mouth watering and full of love. Love roast dinners, love meat pie, love bolognaise, the list went on. I didn't know where she bought the love from that went into her meals but it made them taste amazing. I actually thought God helped her to make them as a young child. My Mother loved her dinner's too when she decided to bring herself to stay for longer than half an hour. Normally Mum would just drop me off and wouldn't return for several days. I really didn't mind, just as long as Grandad didn't return from his overseas job. The house would turn ominously dark when he returned and I felt like I was suffocating. He was always grouchy and would shout at my Nana until he went bright red in the face. I was petrified of him as he seemed so tall and looming over me. I would scoff my dinner very quickly and then go and hide in the back bedroom from him. I would get a sinking feeling and my stomach would be full of knots when he was around. I soon learned why I had those feelings about him, something was about to hit my world and propel me into adult reality, crushing my eight year old heart at the same time.

The days leading up to the day I saw my Nana's heart break, I was in a bubble of wonderment as so often was the case when I was there. In the back bedroom, she had lots of keepsakes, a china doll, small pictures in frames, crystal animals and stand up plates with frilly paper on them. I didn't understand why they were kept in that room but I thought it was so pretty and enjoyed spending time looking at all her lovely things. I would be entranced by the crystal animals, imagining them in a woodland scene, playing gaily and totally free. We would spend days together in total bliss Nana and I. She taught me how to knit, she would show me books on flowers and name them all. The flowers seemed to be made of light, all shimmering with their vibrant colours. I relished this time I spent alone with her, I was happy and each time, felt like a holiday, especially from the lonely absent atmosphere at home. I didn't have any understanding of the grown up world and so I ventured into a world full of imagination with fairies and angels which existed along side crystal animals, my Nana and me. It was a world filled with my best experiences, squashed into a euphoric playground where I wanted to live permanently.

In the school holidays, when Grandad was on a long trip overseas, I would be packed off to Nana's for weeks of heavenly experiences that made me tingle with joy. My room at her house was made magical for me, with rainbow garlands strung around my bed which she had lovingly made for me. The little window to the side of my bed would allow the sun to slowly creep in of a morning. I could see the fir trees outside, all dark and high with slender tops, almost touching the sky, the birds resting in them would wake me with their happy chirping.

Christmas was even more wonderful there, if that was possible. One year though, something had changed Nana and she became a shadow of her normal self. I arrived at her house in a huge state of excitement that year, knowing that when she opened that door, my eyes would be filled with multi-coloured tinsel, sparkling and twinkling from every corner of her house. It would seem as though the advent bells were literally calling `Christmas is best at Nana's house'. I looked in amazement around her living room at the hundreds of cards she had been sent, it seemed she had so many family members and friends. I adored the angel scenes, cartoon cards and would turn my nose up at the ones with churches and robins, they seemed dreadfully staid to me. Nana ushered me into the kitchen to sit and devour the tantalising treats she had prepared for me. She didn't seem her normal self, she was distant and distracted. I hurried to eat as I wanted to play hairdressers which was my new passion that month. Nana was going to be my customer and would let me fill her soft copper coloured hair with higgledy piggledy placed curlers to appease me.

She was a rounded, curvy and cuddly lady, who had rosy endearing cheeks. She was just perfect to me. I reached curler number four and heard a huge sigh escape her lips, the sigh seemed weighted with sorrow. I went to place the next curler, when I noticed her shoulders slightly shaking. I didn't like the feeling that was enveloping me. She asked me to stop for a little while and go to my room and read as she needed a little rest. She said she would call me back into the living room very soon. I did as she asked and as I looked back at her, I saw her normal rosy cheeks were now grey in colour and etched on her face, was an expression of being lost. I didn't feel good at all. I waited in the hallway, peeking through a slither of a crack in the door. Nana got up and went to the phone, she phoned her sister as she normally did everyday, to share the humorous events of each others lives but today she broke into an almighty sob, tears poured down her cheeks, her breathing became quick and punctuated with the sobs. I saw her body shaking. My chest began to hurt where my heart was, at what I was seeing, my perfect Nana, crying so hard. I was puzzled as to what horrible thing could have caused such a sad sight, she was so unhappy. I heard her say "He's gone to her, he's having an affair" she didn't say much more, just continued to sob for what seemed like an eternity. She gripped that phone so tightly, as if it were her life line and she was nearly dying. Finally, she replaced the phone on it's cradle and despondently slumped into the well worn arm chair, the tinsel above her shook. She didn't seem real, almost see through, ghost-like and fragile. My chest continued to ache intensely and my body now felt like lead. I had never seen her like this and it rocked me from the inside. The pain seared through my heart at the sight of her. My Grandad had caused this and I now hated him even more, I wished him dead. How could he do that to my wonderful, vibrant Nana, I hoped he would disappear forever, he was a detestable man to me. He didn't deserve her and now he had injured her heart. The damage was so apparent to me, I hated him to his very bones.

Finally, after what seemed like an age, Nana dried her face with the little hankie she always kept up her sleeve and called out to me. I took my time returning back to the living room, so she would not know I had just witnessed her heartbreak. I rushed in and embraced her, in one of our perfect hugs. Her soft, cuddly frame held me, she asked me what was wrong and I...