For all of us

This is a collection of drawings and sketches by Eric Pohlmann – an actor to you; Dad to me.

The first is dated 1941.

The bulk of them were from Dad’s time in and out of hospitals in 1963.

He was a great observer of people, and had the artist’s talent of transferring his observations eloquently onto paper.

I have added some thoughts of my own – not so much about the individuals, but more of what I like to think were Dad’s thoughts about them. Even in pain, he would see humour in most, and tragedy, sorrow and love in those where humour was suppressed.

Stephen Pohlmann, 2010

Self-portrait

Welcome to my little world

I am first

Because I am me

And that’s the way

They like me to be

These are a few observations

Of those around me

The aged, the dying

Those who cure

And those who comfort

Welcome!

This is where they keep me

I live, lie, sleep and watch

Some pain, but mostly smiles

They took my teeth away

Never to return

No more biting

Only sucking

And now look what’s left

Ah yes, the paleontithic moth

A young one

Its three wings still intact

Wonderful specimen

Lovely spots

Perfect stripe

Asleep

Perchance to dream

They are worried

They think I am dead

But I’ll wake

Before they remove me

Where am I?

What have they done to me?

My teeth!

My life!

Ahhhh, I hear someone coming

Dear God

Please give me the strength

Before the nurse comes back

To get up off these knees

And get back into bed

Who’s going to fix the slates

The burst pipe

The hinge on the door?

The weeds need pulling

The roses pruning

The tea needs to be sipped

Life’s a bitch

The doctor’s a bitch

The pain’s a bitch

The guy in the next bed –

He’s a bitch

But that nurse – nice

I am alone

What else have I left?

Bad sight

No appetite

Just a brush and a comb

I’m right behind you

    I can’t

Pretend I’m not here

    I can’t

Let me run the water

I hear all

From there and over here

I see little

Only my nose

That nose

I wish I were someone else

He doesn’t know me

I’m his son

And he looks through me

For the sake of my mum

I show nothing

I feel the breeze

Your breath is pure

Your words are soft

I hear you

Stay close to me

Eric must be sick

I mean, just look at us

No this

Too much of that

Hope he gets better

Hear she comes

That woman of mine

I’ve always loved her

Always will

How long is always?

What should I do next?

No friends

No visitors

One channel on the TV

And only 51 cards in the pack

Maybe if I squint

Wear glasses with a tint

Keep my tie straight

Always arrive late

Maybe then I am a doctor

Prim lips, pert nose

Delicate ears, coiffure de luxe

Sleek neck, sparkling eyes

A figure to wow

And not an erection in sight

I was someone last week

An executive

With a secretary

An office with a view

But my heart has other plans

I miss my own room…..

…..but I prefer it here

They think I’m ill

Prostate or liver

Pancreas inflamed

Heart maimed

But I’m just a little crazy

A pointed nose

Is not a pointing nose

‘Tis a thing of beauty

I tell I lie –

As you see

I grew the moustache

To make the nose smaller

But then the moustache

Grew so large

So I made the nose larger

I’m a happy soul

Always smiling

Forever positive

So why do want me to pose like this?

My kids are coming

Come through that door every day

Usually holdings hands

I love that

I combed my hair

Carved my silhouette

Chiselled my nose

But it’s not my best side

They won’t listen to me

God told me

The angels told me

I feel it: a Heavenly touch

I do have a halo

I caused a strike

Then a spare

I’m on a curve

I’m a bowling ball

– With glasses

Smoking is unhealthy

I am eighty-seven

I am a burden to all

I have a chest of horror

Let me smoke

Ain’t life a laugh

I smoke fifty a day

Drink five pints with chasers

Never walk further than the local 7/11

And they got me in here for an ingrowing toenail

I am cold

I am old

I am told

Not to fold

My arms around me

Those odours

That smell

I always know what’s coming

Who’s in front of me

What to expect

I smell forward

I am Doctor Grünberg

Dean of this faculty

My wife is on another diet

My daughter married a musician

I have the World on my shoulders

God sent me here

He helped my parents slave for me

My brother sacrificed for me

I shall do so much good here

And then there’s Heaven

Why am I here?

I’m a giant

A man of strength

I am a fighter

And still I don’t know why I’m here

I hate dust

Dirty dishes and paper towels

Can’t stand men with long hair

And women with pants

What do I like?

Why me, of course

I am a musician

I could have been great

Or an actor, an artist

I have so much talent

My modesty overwhelms me

Colours

I love colours

I need colours

Why do I need colours?

I don’t know why I need colours

And these are just lines….

Now I know what those colours were for

For me!

That smile of mine

My joie de vivre

Call me irresistible

Who put this thing on me?

There I was

Minding my own business

Walking quietly, nakedly

And they surrounded me

With this

I’m not an Anglo-African

Nor Neanderthal man

I’m not a coalminer

Nor a coal man

Now get this thing off me!

I am a mystery

I am not a cook

Not a friend

Nor a relative

I’m not sure I know why I’m here

Eric knows

Brother: Why do I have to sit next to her?

Sister: He didn’t brush his teeth this morning

Brother: Mummy won’t let me play with my iPhone

Sister: Mummy won’t let me play with his iPhone

I visit every day

Bring hot soup and schnitzel

The food here is so…English

Does he appreciate me?

I am Lislott

They call me Mum

Dad was fifty-seven when he drew this

Much younger than I

He’s my Dad

Always will be

So how come he’s younger?

Cartoon of Eric Pohlmann – By Flo Nordhoff

Flo (Baron Florenz von Fuchs-Nordhoff) was an artist; a creator of ‘ideas and things’.

No question he was was brilliant. But no chance of great success; he was unmanageable.

Flo came to Dad’s funeral in Salzburg – July 1979.

And to the reception afterwards.

He wore his only tie, spots and all. He wore a sports jacket; he had nothing more serious.

He spent all day making his usual silly comments, telling funny anecdotes, getting slightly tipsy, taking nothing seriously.

Dad’s aged Aunt Irene and Uncle Paul were there,

having come from their health spa in Bad Gastein

Flo’s behaviour shocked dear Irene.

“Who IS that man”?, she asked. “Why does he act like that”?

That’s Flo”, I answered. “He means well”.

Later, when it was time to part, Flo swayed up to me.

He held my hand, at first saying nothing.

Then tears came to his eyes.

“I’ve lost my only friend”, he said.

Thanks for reading this with me…

If you want a paperback copy of this book, for your aunt, grandpa, sister or whomever, stuck as they are in some home or hospital, pls contact..

[email protected].