My grandmother was keeping house at 12 for a crippled (yes, that was the word she used) father, a 17 yr-old brother and two small pesky boys after her mother died giving birth to child number 6 - a sister had died a bit earlier of diphtheria. When, a year or so later, her father went into the infirmary of the workhouse, she and the boys were taken in too, where she never saw the boys again. The older one b******d off when he saw the officials come to the house to fetch them.
She was understandably possessive and needy with her own children, who all grew up not to want their own families to go through the emotional blackmail they had. They wanted us to love them freely, not because there would be tears or recriminations about a supposed lapse of due acknowledgment.