I picture Sylvia, a frail elderly lady but upbeat, her hair and make up immaculate. As well dressed as she is well spoken. Delicate golden framed glasses. The image I have isn't too dissimilar to my step-grandma, a formidable woman who I thought a lot of.
I don't know why I think this but a few weeks ago we had a message on the answerphone for Denise. Denise is Sylvia's friend. The message was from a home or a hospice, they needed her to call urgently, we didn't hear the message for a few days. We've not heard from Sylvia in quite a while and we've not heard from the home since the message either. There's something sad about this, about the possibility that she has gone now, we'll never again hear a brief insight into this lady's life.
I hope the home got hold of Denise in the end. I'd hate for her to not know what had happened to Sylvia.
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