My wife, Ilana, and I share a philosophy that it is important to attend simchas. Visiting the sick and comforting the mourner are obligations, so we do them, and we try to put at least as much effort into attending celebrations as we put into attending shivas.

We have 20 nieces and nephews, and I had a great streak going of attending all their weddings, until COVID border policies kept me from attending a niece’s wedding in Israel. Ilana and two of our daughters, who all have Israeli passports, were able to represent us at the wedding.

But, as families grow, conflicts undoubtedly arise and perfect attendance gets increasingly difficult. While in Chicago celebrating the birth of a granddaughter, we missed our nephew’s bar mitzvah in New Jersey. Our sons represented us. While away at professional conferences, we missed a great nephew’s bris. Again, two of our kids represented us. Our Ashkenazi ancestors had an expression in Yiddish, roughly translated, “You can’t dance at two weddings with one tush.”

Not that he’s suffering, but our youngest, Dov, will regularly remind us that he gets the least attention from us. He points out events like when we sent one of his older sisters to attend his “meet the teacher” night because we were already covering two of his siblings’ schools.

Two weeks ago, we probably committed our biggest offense against Dov. We were in Israel celebrating the birth of a grandson and missed his freshman year college send off. It is with great nachas that I share that once again his siblings stepped in. Two of his sisters drove with their families from New Jersey and Chicago to meet him in Ohio to move him in. They took care of all the small details, like signing him up at Hillel and finding the Chabad House, that we would have. And now we are empty nesters—except for the sour dough starter.