Delilah
I just remembered that Delilah was on iHeart Radio. I used to listen to her when I was in high school ALL the time, she would soothe me to sleep in no time. When I graduated and started staying up late, I replaced her with other music and stuff. . . but I'd always go back to her at Christmas time. I loved hearing about people's different traditions and stuff. It was one of the little things that really made me think of Christmas.
But then the radio station I listened to her on took her off the air because they wanted to sound "fresh" and "new" (those are two words I kinda despise. Especially since there's usually nothing wrong with the "older" stuff.)
Which is too bad, because I've had a strange craving to listen to her again even though it isn't Christmas yet.
The only times we'd listen to her was when we went on vacation. Everytime I hear her voice - even at Christmas - I'm right back at the beach, eating homemade coffee ice cream, driving back to our rental house after watching the sunset in shades of pink and that even as a little girl, I longed to put into words but couldn't exactly at that point in my life.
She reminds me of simpler times that I will never get back until I have kids of my own.
Until then, a taste. . . a dream of what was is all I can ask for.
But then the radio station I listened to her on took her off the air because they wanted to sound "fresh" and "new" (those are two words I kinda despise. Especially since there's usually nothing wrong with the "older" stuff.)
Which is too bad, because I've had a strange craving to listen to her again even though it isn't Christmas yet.
The only times we'd listen to her was when we went on vacation. Everytime I hear her voice - even at Christmas - I'm right back at the beach, eating homemade coffee ice cream, driving back to our rental house after watching the sunset in shades of pink and that even as a little girl, I longed to put into words but couldn't exactly at that point in my life.
She reminds me of simpler times that I will never get back until I have kids of my own.
Until then, a taste. . . a dream of what was is all I can ask for.