There are times when my kids are a tad embarrassed about the sheer number of people in our family. Like when we are trying to find a table at a restaurant. Or navigating our way through a crowd. But there are instances when it is advantageous, for instance shlepping the contents of your apartment down three flights of stairs and into a truck.

Two of our adult kids graduated this past week, and like most of the audiences our gang had eyes for only one. There were two ceremonies at Yale, one for the undergraduates and one for the business school, and since Hosanna was the representative for the latter she needed to show up for the former. Both times we filled most of a row of folding chairs. In our bags were flowers, snacks, cameras, water bottles, and purses to refuel us for four hours of pomp. A thousand graduates in the first event and three hundred in the second had a brief moment in the limelight. Each time a student was announced a whoop let out in a different part of the audience, some going so far as to blast confetti and honk horns. The woman in front of us stood on her chair, wearing heels which worried me a smidgeon, and hollered. 

"That was my redneck moment," was all she said as she climbed down. 

Over fifty countries were represented in the MBA program, and I marveled at the family members who had traveled great distances for this day. I loved simply being a witness to the effusive and seemingly unlimited supply of adoration bestowed on each person by their own personal fan club. Our son's graduation was up the street, and an easier commute for our family, but no less jubilant to be part of. Just seeing his middle name on the program made me weepy. Maybe it is because I only use middle names when reprimanding my children, and with him I have honestly never had need to do so in twenty three years. 

It's a clever system, come to think of it. Give everyone a circle of people who think you are a good reason to get up at four in the morning, or will travel a thousand miles just to see them shine.