I feel your pain - I’m in almost exactly the same position: but I have a strangely coincidental story from my own childhood in the 1950s which I’d like to tell you, cos I think you might find it comforting. I had an aunt who was always special to me: I knew her as Auntie Min. I couldn’t tell you why I loved her so much: I saw her rarely and it was always the biggest treat when she came. When I was old enough to understand, I discovered why: it dated back to when I was less than a year old and my mother was diagnosed with TB. Fortunately penicillin had been discovered by then and it was treatable, but she had to go into an isolation hospital for several months - sound familiar? And guess who came to live with us to look after me and my father while she couldn’t? That’s right: her elder sister, Auntie Min. I have literally no memory I can recall of that time, but I’d obviously developed a special bond with her while she was looking after me - like the one you and I have developed with our grandchildren. It’s tough, really tough, but I keep reminding myself of Auntie Min. If my grandson feels as attached to me as I was to her, I shall be very blessed