When does your responsibility end?

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The last two of my seven children are still living with me. It admittedly is an on again off again situation with my daughter but my son, the baby, is a slightly different matter. Some of you may remember some conversations we had in the old mylot about my husband who was paralyzed and how I cared for him at home for over twenty years until his death, all the while I was raising these last two children which we had after the others were grown. After my husbands death I pretty much shut down emotionally and don't remember much of what went on for the next four years. But I could tell my health was getting bad, I guess I had worn myself out being a full time nurse and mother. By then my daughter had had three children and moved to Tennessee. She had been after me to move up there with her for about two years so I finally gave in. I figured I needed to get away from the area were all my memories were. So anyway, not to drag this out too long I'll just say that after five years with my daughter and her boyfriend I found it intolerable to stay so I got my son to come and get me. His baby's momma had lost their three kids to the department of family and children's services. And he was trying to get them back so I came down to help. I wrote about this recently in a discussion about foster care so I won't rehash it here. Never the less our lives have not been running as smoothly as I would wish and that I am projecting to the world at large. The other day I was trying to get all the pictures I had saved on my new smartphone filed in folders according to topic so I could find what I was looking for without having to scroll though over a thousand pictures. This is the first smart phone I have had and the first Facebook account I have signed up for and I;m not all that sure how everything works yet. Anyway I made up some folders on my Facebook page under photos and proceeded to sort through the pictures and move them in batches of thirty, which is the maximum you can move on Facebook. I didn't realize that while I was moving them they were being reposted to the newsfeed . So about the middle of the day my son called me and raised cain about the pictures I posted of the kids. Needless to say I got upset and I took the whole album of family pictures down. What really made it ironic was most of the pictures that I had of the kids came from his Facebook page where he had posted them. I remember that he did say when we first got the kids back that he didn't want their pictures on Facebook, but he was posting them, so why couldn't I? Anyway, since my health has deteriorated so badly and I am almost constantly in pain I find that my emotions are raw and on the edge as well. My daughter saw that I was upset, okay I was bawling like a baby, and she got mad and called him and proceeded to tell him off for upsetting me. The truth is though that although I fully intended to help him raise these children I have found the task to be more challenging than I assumed it would be. I am not physically capable of cleaning up behind them or cooking meals or doing any of those things. Yes, I can organize and keep everyone on schedule. I can plan menus and budget our resources and I can sew up the dollies when they get a tear. But they need someone who is more active. Right now my daughter is here to help but I don't know how long that will last. She has a temper, too and her brother and she have some fundamental differences. But I'm wondering if I am not contributing to the problem by staying. I feel like I am the only one who can keep a measure of peace between them and these children deserve a stable home. On the other hand I feel like I have done my share and I deserve some peace and to be able to spend some money on my own needs. So, if I decide to move out does that make me a bad person?