I remember Ernst

Ernst, my father,
I hated him
as a teenager -
now I understand
and belatedly
admire him again,
arriving
from nothing
so much life
to live -
wanting everything
and getting it too -
charmed his way
through life
worked hard,
yet played even harder
started poor,
went to work at 14 -
drew beautifully -
but had to support
family -
drove cars, motorcycles,
raced, sold them too,
flew no 27 of
private certificates,
married, one kid,
divorced, married again,
founded his own company,
almost died from a sepsis,
had two kids
worked the company,
during WW2 carried
messages to the Allies,
aimed high,
got his fancy house,
fathered one more,
his unbelievable cars,
motor boats,
his wife had to tolerate
his womanizing,
his charm opened doors,
and yet in some strange way
moderate - his food -
very bland taste -
wine, cigars, pipes
artistic ability to photograph
to film, to woodwork,
in lieu of drawing -
always looking ahead -
spreading his wings -
his temper flew often
and, then, a thrombosis
one small, a couple of minutes,
but still attached to gold diggers
almost bankrupting his own creation-
another larger,
reduced to a very tiny
sad person incontinent
and incoherent
not sleeping at night
wife turned to nursing
the man-baby to exhaustion -
ended up in a nursing home
and died peacefully
with his wife holding his hands.