Rosalie* smiles as her tear-filled eyes follow the path of a white butterfly that flutters from one plant to another in the outdoor cafe where she sits.
"I don't believe in coincidences anymore," she says as she explains how, since her son committed suicide a year ago, she has felt his presence in the pretty-winged creatures.
"Butterflies are known to have a short life and they are fragile creatures, just like my son," she says, her butterfly earrings jingling as she speaks.
She elaborates how, soon after her son, Puck*, overdosed on pills, a butterfly settled on his wallet that was in her car.
"I had just walked into the car after his autopsy... I cupped my hands and the butterfly settled in my palm. A few days later I was standing across the road from the mortuary, when a butterfly just settled onto my arm.
"Another time, I was walking and noticed a house named like my son and I was amazed to see that, in front for it, there was a wounded butterfly. I picked it up and took it home... You see what I mean," she smiles.
Her expression turns stern when she thinks about how hurtful people's comments have been towards her and her family since the tragedy.
Following a string of letters published in The Times, about the reporting of suicides, Rosalie feels she has a point to make: Suicides need not be reported in the media because the relatives of the victim already have a lot of grief to deal with.
"Let us grieve in peace. The last thing you need, when coping with a suicide, is others looking at you, pointing fingers and coming up with their theories about what may have happened... Unfortunately, in Malta, you find a high percentage of gossipmongers pretending to offer their sympathy and kindness when, most of the time, they want to satisfy their curiosity.
"The amount of rumours that people were coming up with while offering me their sympathy, yet at the same time asking for a detailed account of what actually occurred, was staggering," she stresses.
But wouldn't reporting end this speculation? Rosalie disagrees: "Once people know they just label. For people outside the tragedy the deceased soon becomes a statistic and a story to recount. But for those in the immediate circle of family, relatives and friends it is the memories of the times we had with that person that we are left to live with for the rest of our days. So we don't want strangers messing with them," she says.
Rosalie is determined to hold on to those happy memories. She confesses that she is dealing with her grief by holding on to her son's presence in this world. After the overdose, she even pierced her nose and now wears his nose ring.
"I'm tired of crying, feeling guilty and questioning why he did it. I know it's only normal to do so but the truth is that you'll never get a reply. I still, for the love of God, can't fathom what was going on in his mind," she ponders.
Rosalie did not see any warning signs. But, three months after Puck's death, she found a note - neither addressed to someone nor signed - written by him in which he spoke about being an angel who will "always be there" and who was sent to cheer up the sad reader of the note.
Some months later Rosalie was leafing through Puck's music scores and, at the bottom of each page, she found disturbing short notes that read: "Life is only s***, I hate living, the best thing is never to be born, my family doesn't care, my mum only cares".
"The last note cheered my up a little," Rosalie says adding: "I have another son and can't let off the message that only Puck mattered. Suicide can only leave a legacy of tragedy, which I have to fight," she sighs.
Rosalie takes the opportunity to share what this life-altering experience has thought her.
"Accept your children for who they are and try to be their friend. They already have so much peer pressure to deal with. Learn to enjoy your children. Enjoy life, laugh and treasure every minute. Tell your children thank you for being your children and don't take them for granted," she insists.
*Names and details have been changed to protect the family's identity.
Help is a phonecall away
Appoġġ, the government's support agency, offers emotional support and crisis intervention through its 24-hour, free phone supportline 179. The number is open to callers on various issues including suicide situations, both to persons contemplating suicide and to their family members especially after a loss.
The support line is run by a team of professionally-trained volunteers under the supervision and guidance of professional staff. Between January and December 2008, 47 calls related to suicide were registered.
People or relatives of people contemplating suicide should seek immediate help from a psychiatrist or psychologist.