The invitations for Suzie's 21st birthday came back from the printers the day she was buried.
"It was due to be held over there, in the GAA club, on September 8th. About 200 were expected."
Colum McGrath stands at the foot of his younger sister's grave, now covered with perhaps 50 wreaths. It is only the 11th grave in this new graveyard, in Mungret, a small village outside Limerick city.
"Feels weird," he says, shaking his head. "I still can't believe it."
It's two weeks since Suzanne McGrath (20) set off with three friends to the Witnness music festival just outside Dublin. They went clubbing in the Temple Theatre after the concert on Sunday night and Suzanne died, as a result of taking ecstasy, in the early hours of August bank holiday Monday morning. The reason given for her death was heart failure.
"Oh, she was planning the weekend for ages, very happy and excited when they headed off on the Saturday morning," says her father Tony.
In the sitting room of the family home, just beyond the Co Limerick village of Clarina, he explains that his wife, Jenny, has gone out while we talk about Suzanne.
"She couldn't face talking about it. She's shattered."
Suzanne had called home on the Sunday evening to tell her mother she was "having a great weekend and would be home on Monday evening".
The next they heard of their eldest daughter was at about 5 a.m. on Monday when the gardai arrived with Deirdre (19), Suzanne's sister, with whom she had been sharing an apartment in the Raheen area of Limerick city.
"They didn't tell us exactly what happened, just said something happened to Suzanne and it wasn't good. I knew straight away though when I saw the police escort," he nods. "I knew, when I saw that police car that was it."
Deirdre's boyfriend drove Tony, his wife and daughter to Dublin immediately. They were just outside Portlaoise when Tony's mobile rang. Speaking slowly he recounts the conversation.
"It was a doctor from the hospital. She said, `Is that Mr McGrath?' I said it was. And she said to me, `I'm sorry, Mr McGrath, I have to tell you that Suzanne passed away during the night.' Passed away, just passed away during the night. What could I do? I just said `OK, we're on our way up.' I told my wife and my daughter. They cried," he says, sighing. "We kept driving, straight to the Mater Hospital.
"Someone, a nurse I think, came out to meet us and they brought us into a room, told us. And then we went down to see Suzanne."
She was laid out in the morgue, he recalls, a white sheet covering her from the neck down.
"Well, she looked a little puffed, a little swollen, you know, but not terribly. To me she was just herself, just Suzanne.
"She had been found in a collapsed state in the Temple Theatre by herself. They couldn't revive her. The doctors said they did everything but they couldn't get her back."
It is not clear where exactly she died. A post-mortem was carried out on Tuesday morning which showed she died of heart failure.
She had, they told the family, "almost certainly taken ecstasy".
"We'd heard of it but didn't take much notice of it. You don't, you see a bit about it in the paper and flick over to the next page. `It's nothing to with me,' you say. Everyone is so busy with their lives, they think it's all right. But it's going to happen to other kids."
Suzanne was brought home that evening. They kept her at home until the "packed" funeral on Thursday, in Ballybrown Church.
Suzanne had been a corporal in the FCA. A guard of honour was provided at the funeral.
"She loved the FCA, had been in it for four years. Her superiors were here the other night and they were saying she did a lot for her country as well, training people and everything."
Suzanne had grown up in Clarina and gone to Ballybrown National School before attending the Crescent Comprehensive in Dooradoyle. After a good Leaving Cert she worked for an importing and exporting company where she had just been promoted.
"She had everything going for her, a good job, her own little car, everything happy," says Tony.
Asked what kind of girl she was both father and brother brighten.
"She was nuts," laughs Colum. "A scream," says Tony. "Always very happy, a brilliant sense of humour, always doing things, always forging ahead. If she got it into her head that she wanted to do something she was going to do it, regardless of what she was told.
"Driving up to Witnness was typical. I was advising her against it because she had Lplates on the car, Colum was advising her against it. We said she couldn't drive on the motorways while she was a learner. She said she could, went out, whipped the plates off the car and she was gone. And all the time before saying she was going to take the train."
She had "hundreds" of friends. "Any excuse to go out and she was off," continues Tony. "God, She didn't need any of that kind of thing, tablets, to get a buzz out of life. She was unbelievable craic, getting the tongue pierced even though I advised her against that.
"She needed something to calm her down if she needed anything."
Almost every evening she dropped home, doting particularly on her youngest brother, Anthony (12). She'd spend evenings braiding 15-year-old Jennifer's hair and was very close to her mother.
"It's her I'm worried about. She's shattered," says Tony. "She is talking about it, but a mother is very close to her child, brought her into the world. And Suzie was a great little kid."
On whether they knew she might take ecstasy Tony is emphatic.
"It might be because she's my own daughter but I just cannot believe she just decided, `Hey, I'm going to take ecstasy.' Someone must have suggested it to her or introduced her to it."
Tony, who works as a national delivery driver, has returned to work while Jenny works at home.
"What can we do now? The reason we talked to you is the hope we can prevent this miserable heartbreak for someone else. There isn't a lot else we can do, only do our best.
"The feeling now is an awful drained feeling. Life, it's not going to be easy because it'll never be the same."