Dear Annie: My husband and I took in five siblings after both of their parents died, even though we were already raising a large family of our own. Overnight, our lives changed. The children were 7, 9, 12, 13 and 15 when they came to us, and we did our best to give them safety, stability and love. We showed up for school events, sports, camps and counseling, though one child’s severe behavioral struggles made daily life especially difficult.

Now they are adults, and four of them have cut ties with us, saying we “gave them trauma.” That accusation has been heartbreaking after all we sacrificed to raise them.

The oldest, now 30, has special needs and cannot live independently. He is a kind, loving young man, and we have placed him in a wonderful group home. But I am in my 60s, exhausted and thinking about the future. I asked his siblings whether one of them would eventually take over guardianship, and all refused.

I do not want him to end up with a state-appointed guardian, though I still want to remain in his life. How do I ask his siblings to step up for their brother when they want nothing to do with us? — Worn Out but Still Trying

Dear Worn Out: You and your husband stepped in when those children needed a home most. That kind of love does not disappear just because it goes unrecognized.

Still, you cannot force anyone to accept guardianship. Rather than chasing reluctant siblings, put your energy into securing the best future for your stepson through a lawyer, social worker or disability advocate.

You have carried enough. Asking for help now is not selfish. It is wise.

Dear Annie: My husband and I recently invited two couples to dinner. They accepted warmly and promptly, which was lovely. Then came the food requirements.

One guest has a nut allergy, which of course I was happy to accommodate. Another asked me to cut back on salt and sugar. A third is on a keto diet for weight loss and said she avoids most carbs and prefers gluten-free, though she does not have a gluten intolerance. The fourth is following another weight-loss plan I had never heard of and said she “doesn’t do dairy or red meat.”

Not one person said, “Please don’t go to any trouble for me.” Not one offered to bring a dish they could eat. Not one suggested eating around what didn’t work for them. Instead, I was handed what felt less like dietary information and more like a restaurant order.

I did my best. I planned carefully, shopped at three stores and spent most of Saturday in the kitchen trying to create a meal that would suit everyone. The evening itself was pleasant enough, until people were gathering their coats. That is when the keto guest pulled me aside and whispered, “I wasn’t able to eat all of the dishes because of my diet.”

I was speechless. After all the effort I had made, her parting gift was a performance review.

I love having people in my home. I am genuinely happy to accommodate allergies, medical needs and religious observances. But I am not a short-order cook, a dietitian or the evening’s unpaid catering staff. When a dinner invitation turns into a menu consultation followed by a critique, something about the spirit of hospitality feels lost.

Am I wrong to think dinner-party etiquette has shifted, and not for the better? How do I gracefully step back from hosting guests who turn a generous invitation into a specifications document? — Not the Hostess with the Mostest

Dear Not the Hostess: You are not wrong. A nut allergy is a real concern. A religious restriction deserves respect. But “I’m avoiding carbs this month” does not require the hostess to perform culinary gymnastics in sensible shoes.

A gracious guest states a true restriction, offers to bring something and then eats what she can with thanks. She does not treat dinner at a friend’s home like a hotel buffet with a complaint department.

Next time, say kindly, “I’m happy to avoid nuts, but I’m keeping the menu simple. Please bring anything special you may need.” Then serve the meal, enjoy your company and hang up the short-order apron.