If not for Kat’s deteriorating health and the ever-present cloud of inevitability of her life drawing to a close, Henry would consider life as close to perfect as a man’s life could be. Every day he thanked God for all he and his family had been blessed with, and he begged God to be merciful with Kat and all of those who loved her and were grieving over the prospect of her loss and the daily evidence that it was drawing closer. Henry came more and more to appreciate and respect the principle of accepting God’s will and trusting that He and only He knew what was best. Henry wouldn’t want the responsibility of determining when it was the right time for Kat to go. He had moments when he saw evidence of her increasing pain, and he wanted to see it end, if only so that he could know she was no longer suffering in any way. There were other moments when she was doing better and he couldn’t imagine life without her and he desperately wanted her to never leave him. So he did his best to put the matter in God’s hands and prepare himself to accept the end when it came and to gracefully endure the dreadful anticipation, day by day.

The family had developed a comfortable routine with Kat, where they each had their time with her every day, sharing in her company and helping her with whatever she needed. Servants were on hand for certain things, but the family was committed to taking on the greatest responsibility of caring for Kat and for little Harry. The baby was rarely not in Kat’s room, so that she could enjoy him whenever she felt up to it. But for those who spent time with Kat every day, her deterioration was becoming more and more evident. Dr. Cowell came two or three times a week, monitoring her closely and teaching the family about the body’s natural process of death and how to appropriately give Kat the medication available to help ease her pain as much as possible. There were times when Kat didn’t want the medicine; she wanted to be awake and able to talk to her loved ones and enjoy her baby—who would always make her light up in spite of her persistent pain. But she always reached a limit when she would ask for the medicine, knowing it would make her sleepy and ease her suffering.