Last weekend, I traveled back home to New York for my Nanny's memorial service. I was planning on being strong and read the poem that I wrote years ago, which she asked for me to read when one day she should pass away. I figured that I had dealt with my feelings after saying goodbye to her at the hospital, however, I started thinking about all our earlier memories and how close we were and all my emotions came back up to the surface.
I first started crying when I saw her friends that she used to play cards with after seeing the sadness in their eyes. Then memories of joining them in their card games with my Nanny flooded back. I started crying much harder though during her son's beautiful speech about Nanny's ability to bring people together, our bond and that words like "hate" were not in her dictionary. I barely managed to read the poem, but my voice cracked throughout. The weirdest part was being all together without her. Being inside her home (where I grew up on many weekends and summers ) without her was another shock. It was like a body without its soul. No more spirit, just a house.
Things picked up though the following day when "the boys" (my psuedo-brothers that my Nanny and I babysat) and I went out for a ride on a very fast cigarette boat. The river was super flat and we skipped like a stone up the Hudson River, under the Bear Mountain Bridge and passed West Point reaching 61 MPH. It was like a roller coaster ride, the winds pushed at my face like a facelift and my hair was whipping me.
Here's a video of the experience. The audio is loud though due to the wind and us speeding, so you might want to mute: