Terry Fagan will speak on behalf of his sister this afternoon. "It would be too painful for her," he explains simply. "Patsy lost three of her kids. Three in two years."
This afternoon's will be an emotional unveiling of a memorial to the hundreds of young people who have died in Dublin's north inner city as a result of drugs.
The sculpture Home by Leo Higgins will be unveiled by the President, Mrs McAleese. The design was chosen by the relatives and is the first permanent public acknowledgement of their grief.
Though erected to the more than 300 who have died from drug abuse in the Dublin 1 district alone, people from across the city are expected to attend.
Bernie Howard's youngest child and only son, Stephen, hanged himself in the hall of his family home in July 1995.
He had battled with heroin for the final three of his 21 years. "I still miss him, still wish I could have him here, hug him," she smiles. "I think about him every day, visit his grave every week. You never get over burying your child. Something goes out inside that's gone forever."
The memorial comes four years since the first, temporary, memorial was placed at the traffic island between Upper and Lower Buckingham Streets.
That year a Christmas tree was erected by the residents. Donated by Dublin Corporation, it was lit and decorated by the families with silver stars - each representing a person who had died from heroin misuse.
And though each year since another tree has been erected and the stars, increasing in number each time, placed on it, there was a wish to have a permanent memorial.
The sculpture chosen was one of five proposed by six Irish artists. Home, perhaps the simplest of them, stands as an eight-foot flame of gilded bronze, housed within a limestone structure. In darkness, uplights flood the structure, making it visible from Ballybough to the North Strand.
When the flame was smelted some months ago, the relatives were invited to place some memento of their loved ones into the molten metal. "That was difficult," says Terry. "I turned away as Patsy went forward. I think she put their communion medals in. There were confirmation medals, even little toy cars went in."
Bernie placed a small trinket Stephen had had along with a miraculous medal he used to wear. "Walking past the memorial this morning," she said, "and the flame was in place. Oh, I felt really close to it. I felt a part of Stephen was there."
The Buckingham Street traffic island was the spot where many of the "deals" of the local heroin industry were struck. It is hoped the memorial will allow residents to take back ownership of it.
Both Bernie and Terry speak of the hopes they had for the children gone. "Samantha," says Terry of his niece, "had lovely blonde hair. Michael and Derek were fair too, slim, good looking. We used to always say Samantha would go far because of her looks." They were between 18 and early 20s when they died. Stephen had wanted to be a chef. "Like all kids," says Terry, "they had their dreams. But dreams are rarely fulfilled in the inner city."
Both now work with community groups fighting for funding for services the community has needed for decades. "Drugs are still here though," says Terry. "I know young people using heroin."
They hope the memorial will begin a healing process in the community. The parents, though "will never get over it," says Bernie. "There's a sadness in this community that will never go away. But, I hope, a happiness that the memorial will remember the children even after we are gone."
Irish Lives will appear in The Irish Times from Tuesday to Friday until Christmas.