Bing is still here, singing White Christmas

     For most of us, I think, there are certain Christmas traditions that have to happen to make the season, like going to midnight candle lighting services, or carving a turkey or ham on Christmas day, with the family gathered around.
     Ever since I can remember, I have to hear Bing Crosby's version of "White Christmas" to get the season going. No other version, no other singer, quite does it.  It has to be Bing.
     I can recall walking out of a movie theater with my Dad when I was about five, and the lights were up and Bing's voice came through the house speakers, singing "Adeste Fidelis," and I had no idea what the words meant, but it felt good. I asked, "Daddy, how old is Bing Crosby?"
     He said, "I guess he'd be about 40," which was bad news, because to me, it meant that Bing Crosby was old. So then I asked, "Does Bing Crosby swear?"
     That made Dad laugh out loud. He had no idea, but I got the idea that maybe Bing used some of the words that I was not allowed to use. Not only that, but he had been divorced.  I hoped he mended his ways before he died, if he wanted to go to Heaven.
     Dad remembered that question the rest of his life. When I was little, I didn't know why he found it so amusing. This was serious business, this issue of virtue. If you sing Christmas songs, you shouldn't have bad habits. I knew Bing smoked, because he smoked a pipe in the movies, but that wasn't considered a mortal sin back then. Swearing was, except for the occasional four-letter words that Dad and his guy friends used.
     What Dad recalled, fondly and with humor, was the innocence of his little boy.
     I have a few memories of my own sons like that now, and I know my father better.
     Years passed, and every Christmas I await the mellifluous tones of Der Bingle, singing White Christmas, sometimes catching a playing of Adeste Fidelis, and in time, I realized why it was important to that little boy to know that Bing was right with God.
     I think Bing Crosby, because he was Dad's favorite singer, had become a father figure to me. I was newly aware that year that no one lives forever; not Bing, not Dad. And I wanted to hold on to them until I was sure they would go to Heaven.
     In my own maturity, I no longer worry about it. The whole idea of Christmas is that we shouldn't worry about it. Or so I believe.