My son is 11, and I still would rather poke hot pins in my eyeballs than take him grocery shopping with me. Click and collect all the way! Although he will do a quick milk and bread dash with me but I can't cope with more than that.
The useless strings on my pyjama pants as I stumble back to bed after my midnight wee are often captured by a single hooked claw on my way past the end of the bed.
Oh that is so sad. Many many hugs. I've been watching their lists waiting for her to pop up!
But she had warmth, comfort, food and peace which she would not have had without you.
It's getting significantly darker in the early morning now.