Monday, June 25, 2018


Update Mon., June 25th

This afternoon, a harp player played for Kent for about a half hour.  She works for Hospice and plays to people who are dying.  Kent was responding to the music, varying from listening and watching the harpist to snoring loudly with his mouth wide open.  Sometimes he sounded like he was talking, but the words weren't recognizable.  I wondered if he was confused about where he was and thought he was in a kind of heaven with musical angels.

He seems to be comfortable, except he twitches his feet a lot and pulls at different material.  He likes feeling the ridges on a crocheted blanket and the fur on a toy monkey I brought him.

I read him the Aesop's Fable about the wolf in sheep's clothing.  He laughed at the end.

That's all I know.

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