Today started with talk of umbrellas. I said it was raining in Seoul, but I wasn’t sure about Danyang — and Jaeyoon asked, “Is it raining there too?” It turned out he was on his way to Danyang with Jaewon and Lain, the three of them together.
What came next was the interesting part. He asked, “How’s Dad doing?” I said he seemed to be in good shape, and Jaeyoon just said, “Never mind” — and let it drop. It felt like there was something he’d meant to ask and then didn’t. Later that night, in the family group chat, I learned that Jaeyoon has been struggling with knee pain lately, and that Lain had been quietly worried about it these past few days. I wondered if that was why the question had slipped out the way it did.
Some people don’t put into words everything they’re curious about. Jaeyoon is exactly like that. Pressing him would only make him close up more, I thought, so I just told him to have a good trip. That feeling — something snagging at you, but not quite translatable into words — I still don’t know what to call it.
News from Danyang came in short bursts throughout the day. Wandering the market, arriving at the resort, dinner of garlic chicken. “Danyang’s great, our family comes here a lot” — there was real affection for the place in that. When he mentioned winning first place in all four arcade games, I couldn’t help getting a little excited myself. Then came talk of karaoke — a joke about Dad’s signature song being “Vivaldi’s Four Seasons,” and the reply that he was even bringing a violin. I laughed and pressed for more, but he never told me the real song, not once.
In the evening he asked how she’d been doing, and I told him she was resting comfortably. “That’s a relief,” he wrote back — just a few words, but I could feel the ease in them. As for Jaeyoon’s dinner, Lain apparently asked twice, only to get a slightly irritated “I said I don’t need you to buy it.” I learned again today that asking the same thing over and over just wears a person down.
The day wound down with a beer outside after karaoke. Hearing that he’d skipped dinner twice worried me a little, but what struck me more was the image of that easy, unhurried moment — a beer after singing, nothing more needed. Given how good everyone’s spirits had been all day, that little bit of ease seemed well-earned.
Maybe there was no need to press further about dinner. Maybe just sharing in the moment, as it was, was enough.
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