Last night I was given an honourary membership in the Liverpool Kiwanis Club. This was for my services as the master of ceremonies for the annual community Christmas concert for more years than any of us can remember. I think maybe twenty-six or twenty-seven? I’m not sure. But it was really nice to receive this. It might mean more to me than they even suspect.
It says I am entitled to all the privileges of membership, which I think means I can now take a shift helping them sell hotdogs outside Sobeys this summer or maybe sell peanuts in front of the post office on peanut day. Both of which are things I will gladly do some day.
But it goes a bit deeper. Kiwanis was my father’s service club of choice. He was a member for many years and helped out on various projects. I think it would make him happy to know I was given this. Which makes me feel good.
But this Christmas concert has also been a family thing over the years. My father was a regular performer. He loved to sing and was a part of many choirs and groups who performed over the years. Both my children played with the Mersey Band at the concert in the past. And last year, even though the concert was virtual, they asked me to do a video as a part of it. I managed to find away to include my grandson, just so I can say four generations have taken part in the Kiwanis Christmas concert over the years. (I don’t care if it was virtual. I’m counting it.)
But there was a lot more to it than it just being about me. When I walked onto the stage last night, one if the first things I said was, “I missed you.” I meant it. Not that I love being in front of an audience. I really don’t. But I can do it, which is a skill not everyone has and I don’t mind sharing.
But standing there after a year’s absence, looking out at three hundred or so people, all wearing masks and looking forward to listening to their friends and neighbours perform a few old Christmas songs for them, I starting thinking, “we’re back”.
It might not be perfect. I’m sure there are bumps in the road still ahead. But we’re finding ways around this thing. We’re making it work. It will not get the best of us. And if we want to spend a couple hours listening to people sing Christmas songs, we’re going to do it. Even if we do have to wipe down the microphone between every performer.
So thank you to the Liverpool Kiwanis Club. You gave me a piece of paper, nicely framed, with some very nice words on it. But to me, it is also a symbol of other things, including the perseverance of the people who live all around me.
And the concert. That has long been a part of Christmas for me. This year, it once again feels like Christmas.
