Charlie's Grandson

I never met
My grandfather

He died two years
Before I was born

I'm not named after him

This isn't one of those stories
Where I'm named my dead grandfather
So don't get the wrong idea

My father says that I look like him
He says it once in awhile
And whenever he does
My mom looks uncomfortable

I guess he and my mom
Didn't always get along

She doesn't like it
When I play the piano either

I wanted to take lessons
But she told me
That I would have more fun
Taking karate
Or going to theater camp

But I felt like I should be playing
The piano

I felt so drawn to it

I remember hearing a song once
Walking over to the piano
In my livingroom
Sitting down
And just playing it

The first time it happened
My mother was washing dishes

She heard the music
Thought maybe I had turned on a radio or something
And came into the room
To see me sitting at the piano
Playing a song
From memory

When I was done
My hands came off the keys
Like I had just touched
A hot pan on the stove

'I'm sorry,' I said

'Don't be sorry,' she said, 'That's why we have the piano.  It was your grandfather's.  Somebody should play it.'

She came and sat down
Next to me
In front of the piano

'I know you didn't like him,' I said

My mother laughed
Then shook her head
And said--

'It wasn't that I didn't like him.  We just...We didn't understand each other.'

She got up and went to the hall closet
She pulled down a shoe box from the top shelf
And took a book out of it

Mom brought it over to the piano
And set it down

'This is a book your grandfather was working on.  They found it in his house after he...It's called "Charlie's Funeral."  It's sort of...I don't know.  An autobiography, I guess.  Told from different perspectives.'

I picked up the book

It felt anxious in my hand
Like a present
Waiting to be opened

'Is it a true story,' I asked

Mom thought about it for a second
And then said--

'When you get older, you realize the truth is a very complicated thing.'

I told her that it seems like
A lot of stuff gets complicated
When you get older

She kissed me on the head
And said--

'It's not that it gets complicated.  It's that you realize it's been complicated all along.'

She went back into the kitchen
And I could hear her
Humming the song
I was just playing
While she washed the dishes

I opened up the book
With the words 'Charlie's Funeral'
Written in handwriting
On the front cover

And I started to read
The story
Of my grandfather