Remembering a Perry Como Christmas
By: Regina Clarke
Tags: Childhood, Nostalgia, Happiness, Inspiration, Christmas

Is it possible to remember the past and still be happy in the present?

I found a beautiful cover of a Christmas album with Perry Como wearing his iconic sweater, in this case, a red one. Alas, it is not in the public domain, so I could not add it here. That LP cover brought back memories of his Christmas shows in the early 60s, treasures never to be missed when I was a child. His version of “O, Holy Night” is as present today in my heart as when he first sang it to us.

Seeing that album, I also realized that my memories of the Perry Como Christmas show evoked so much more, of Christmas as it used to be. It marked a time of such excitement and anticipation, but also a time of feeling the sacredness of the season. Somehow, watching that special each year made me feel connected to something precious.

I didn’t know that at the time, of course. I only felt it. The thing is, our feelings are who we are, the core of us, and they have shaped us since childhood in all kinds of ways. It is the feelings that linger, though, that have shaped us the most.

When those feelings are good ones, we are blessed. Those are the ones we are meant to keep.

I remember waiting for the Perry Como Christmas show as if it was the start of the real Christmas, though so many wonderful events had happened or were going on. I was caroling with my friends, playing in the snow, ice skating on a local pond, seeing the beautiful decorations all over my school, listening to the choir practice Christmas carols at church, watching Alec Guinness in the marvelous original 1950 “Scrooge,” the British film based on Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol.

My Dad would check the TV Guide for two things — when that film would be shown (we had to wait for it, no VHS or DVR back then) and when the Perry Como Christmas show would be on. It was usually the one he had right before Christmas, but we all wanted to be sure. Then we gathered as a family of six and spent an hour together and understood at some deep level it had been something to cherish.

There were other specials during the season, and it was such delight for us as children to watch the animated programs we loved, like Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer and Here Comes Suzy Snowflake and Frosty the Snowman. The radio played all the popular songs, integral to my feeling of the Christmas spirit and joy, from the Mormon Tabernacle Choir singing carols to Arthur Fiedler and the Boston Pops with symphonic renditions of LeRoy Anderson’s “Sleigh Ride” and Nat King Cole singing about chestnuts around an open fire. So many songs that became deeply embedded in my psyche.

Perry Como sang most of them to us, either on his television Christmas show or on his beautiful Christmas albums. I heard one just yesterday, “(There’s No Place Like) Home for the Holidays” that he made his own. I believed him, as if my world was as warm and welcoming as it could be. Because it was Christmas.

These same songs are played today wherever I go in shops and stores. It is if no Christmas songs have emerged since the 50s and 60s or could emerge! I don’t know any, actually, except maybe Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas Is You.”

Hearing those songs now, though, is not the same, for around me is a very different world and I have lived so many experiences in the decades since. I know the music out in the shops is not in sync with the way people live now.

Do I wish it was?

I have thought about this, and my answer is no. That is, I would love to return to the evening before Christmas listening to Perry Como entertain us with so much heartfelt grace and wondrous joy. But I know it is in the past. What I have, though, are memories of feeling so much happiness because of the season and the show. That is mine forever.

Yet though I may not seek to return to that time, I find it intensely valuable to recreate it, albeit in ways that align with my life now. I know if I mourn the past and see it as lost to me, I have denied the very spirit of hope and promise it gave to me. I am meant to live with the happiness I felt then. Thus, I put up my Christmas tree and decorate it and the house and each day see it all and listen to Christmas music and feel a connection not only with the past, but with what I have gained from the past.

All these thoughts come from seeing the cover of that album and the dear, wonderful, beautiful singer on it wearing a red sweater…

Thank you, Mr. Como. More than I can express. We are meant to give our gifts out into the world and we all have gifts in us. I know I do, whether I can identify it yet or not. You gave us your gift of song and kindness and your deep joy in doing what you loved.

For always, thank you.