It was only the three of them again this year, as usual.  Donghae followed his hyung, Donghwa, into the room where the memorial service would be held. His mother trailed behind with the last of the food offerings.  Even after five years, the sight of his father's picture wrapped in funeral crepe brought fresh tears to his eyes.

"Abujee, I miss you."

Alongside his brother, he made the ritual obeisances and offerings.  In his mind, he still heard the echo of the words from so long ago. "Donghae, I'm so sorry. Your father passed away an hour ago."  He had collapsed when he heard that.  He had dropped everything, his scheduled appearance at a festival, the next concert, and rushed home to Makpo, to his mother's side.

The wake and the funeral had been awful, not just from their loss, but from the damned fans outside screaming his name over and over, and yelling, "Oppa! I love you!."  That moment had brought home to him just what his life would be like now.  No privacy anyplace, ever, no matter the circumstances.

'Abujee, I never got to say goodbye properly.  Forgive me.'

The services over, the family gathered for the traditional meal. Donghae remembered his father teasing him at the dinner table about eating all of the kimchi, his favorite side dish.  "Pinocchio!  Leave some for the rest of us, son!", was a common comment, always with that loving smile.  His father's easy smile was somthing he had inherited, along with his Appa's soft heart.  For as long as he could remember, he had been called a crybaby for that, but Appa always told him that it meant he had a pure heart.

'Thank you, Appa, for making me who I am."

The old photo albums were out now.  They usually made an appearance on days like this.  Turning the pages brought so many memories flooding to the surface.  The first time he caught a fish, skating on the local pond, family karaoke night, and so much more.  Donghae was as silly as his Appa had been.  He was forgetful like him also. Looking for his hat when it was on his head, talking on the phone to a band member and mentioning that he had lost his phone and needed to look for it.

There was one thing he had done better than his Appa though.  His father had wanted to be a singer, but never made it.  When Donghae had told the family that he was accepted as a trainee, his father had held him and cried.  Taking him aside, his father had only asked one thing from him, something he still held true to.  "Son, that life takes a hard toll on people.  I want you to promise me one thing.  No matter how hard it gets, don't rely on the drugs and alcohol.  Don't ruin your voice with cigarettes.  Be an upright man, thats all I ask."  Donghae had promised.  It did get rough at times, but he had never fallen.  He had his SuJu hyungs to help him through.  When they heard of his father's passing, they had finished their personal schedules as fast as they could and had come to Makpo for him, every last one.

Finally, the toughest day of the year was over.  He kissed his Umma and hugged his brother, promising to come back and visit as soon as he could.  He had to be back in Seoul for practice and a taping tomorrow, so he had to cut this visit short.  He got into his car and pulled away, waving  his hand out the window one last time.  Settling in for the drive, he popped in a CD.  The familiar strains of Luther Vandross'  Dance With My Father filtered through the speakers, and he remembereed the time he tried to teach his father a few of SuJu's easier dance moves to this song.  It was a disaster.  His Appa almost killed himself falling over the low table in the living room while trying to do a spin.  Umma had banned dancing in the house after that.  He laughed out loud and felt his heart lighten as he remembereed the good times.

"Abujee.  I'll always remember you.  Saranghae"

His Umma stood and watched until the lights of his car were lost in the distance, "Stay well my precious baby."  She turned and went inside. "Yeobo, He is just like you.", she thought as the door closed behind her.