Wednesday, May 17, 2017

Personal Shrine to Mr. Hurwitz - Annie Jeckovich

I chose to dedicate my shrine to Mr. Hurwitz, the father of my best friend from home. In brainstorming my initial designs, I knew I wanted to work with letters I have received from both him and Mrs. Hurwitz. I’m not an artist, but I do like to make collages. If you’ve seen the back of my computer, or any of my water bottles, I like to piece things together.
            The letter I knew I needed to include was one Mr. Hurwitz wrote on my behalf for my admission to the University of Texas at Austin. He was on the board of the McCombs School of Business there. True to his nature, and our relationship, he decided the letter he would have Ellie deliver for me to read would be a fake one. The letter pokes fun at me in its entirety. Ellie told me he was texting her as I read it for the first time asking, “Is she crying?! Did she cry?!”. Always the teaser, he knew poking fun at me was a way to show how much he cared for me.
I included a letter from Mrs. Hurwitz as well. She’s always sending me stickers from random places she has gone. In fact, the water bottle I use today has two or three stickers from her. I included his obituary and other pamphlets from his Memorial service. I think that picture they chose to use on his obituary is perfect. The picture is Mr. Hurwitz on the boat on Lake Austin, throwing up a “hook ‘em”. I wanted to include his pork shoulder recipe, which he made us every 4th of July for as long as I can remember, but couldn’t track it down and wasn’t sure if I wanted Debbie and Ellie to know what I was doing. I still don’t.
In my initial design, I planned to shatter a glass bottle and lay the shards on top of the board containing the collage. The broken glass would have represented not only my shattered best friend, the broken Hurwitz family, but also alludes to the lake water in which Mr. Hurwitz died. In the end, I decided that the glass was proving too difficult.
I thought it was appropriate to write a letter to Mr. Hurwitz, not only because the letter he wrote me is the most powerful item I have to remember him, but because I find I am most able to express myself through letters. Writing this letter was a very cathartic experience for me, and I wish I had interpreted it in the original design so that it could be on the front. I don’t think I realized how powerful the experience would be for me, but in the end, despite crying in front of the class, I am very thankful I did this. This project allowed me to be introspective and address the grieving I have yet to do.

This is the letter pasted on the back,

Mr. Hurwitz,

I still remember the morning I found out you were gone. Taken from us too soon in a tragic accident. Sunday morning, after a late night even you would have been proud of, I turned my phone on Do Not Disturb, as I always do, to get work done. The only notifications I receive are from those on my “Favorites” list.
I was in the middle of a problem set when I felt my phone vibrating. Wilson was calling, I assumed to talk about what we were gonna get dad for his birthday, so I ignored it. Not even thirty seconds passed before I felt the custom vibration, two long vibrations instead of the heartbeat vibration, assigned to Katherine and Ellie for our group message. Wilson called again, which as you know, is very out of character. I remember picking up my phone, frustrated at the interruptions. I read Ellie’s text as I raised the phone to my ear,

“I can’t talk right now but I wanted y’all to hear from me that my dad passed away last night”

            It felt like the floor had dropped out from beneath me, the only thing anchoring me to reality was my brother’s voice in my ear asking, “Annie?”.
            That morning was filled with calls from friends and family alike. I was so grateful to get to speak to Ellie. We didn’t get to talk long, and it was mainly her crying, but I was grateful to hear her voice. She and Scott were both being driven back from the Texas-OU Game in Oklahoma by Mr. Sheffield and Bubba. You would have been pleased they were the ones to drive your kids home.
When she got back home and saw Debbie, my mom said Ellie turned to her almost immediately and asked to go to our house. Easy overwhelmed, that one. But who wouldn’t be? I thank God Kak could get back from school that night to be with her. I wish I could have been there that day. I guess I should have listened to you and stayed in state, huh?
I received a lot of calls and texts offering condolences, but many of the calls were friends and classmates, young and current, of Ellie’s, trying to get a hold of her. It was then that I realized what my role would be in this process – I would be the middle-person. The connector of not only my grief, but the grief and condolences of others to Ellie.
It took me a long time to realize I never really processed my grief or accepted that I had  lost you. Who was I to grieve when my best friend’s world was shattered? Were you a second father to me? Absolutely. Do I love you? Undoubtedly. But Ellie has my heart, and it was my heart which grieved and continues to grieve for her.
Do you remember Lake Austin? Of course you do. We spent hours on the family boat. Tubing, riding around, attempting to fish, drinking – I shared some of my best memories on that boat. I became a part of your family on that boat. I had some of my first sips of alcohol on that boat (Mike’s Hard Lemonade, thanks Debbie). Smoked my first cig on that boat (Not that you ever knew that). Had one of my first kisses on that boat.
I remember seeing that very boat in the articles which followed your death, being pulled out of Lake Austin. Ellie asked me to read them for her, everyone was keeping her in the dark. Sheltering her from the whole truth, though knowing you, knowing her father, she must have known what was involved in a crash on Lake Austin at 3 in the morning.
I was mad at you. For a long time, I couldn’t forgive you. I couldn’t mourn you. My best friend was shattered. Her family, your family, was broken, and I couldn’t help but blame you for that. I know now I was blinded by grief and rage.
I do forgive you, because I love you. I have forgiven you because I love Scott. Because I love Debbie. Because I love Cookie and Rhino and even Mini-Me. Because I love Lake Austin and the University of Texas. But most of all, I forgive you because you gave me my soul mate, my best friend. For that, I am eternally grateful to you. You are gone, and you have left a scar on my heart, but when I remember you, my heart no longer breaks, but fills, because you gave me the best friend I could have asked for. I miss you, I love you, and I thank you.
Love always,

ARJ 

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