A memorial event will be held in Tuam, Co Galway this evening to remember those who lived and died in the town's Mother-and-Baby Home.
It comes ahead of preparatory work commencing at the site, to exhume significant quantities of human remains, which were discovered following research by local historian Catherine Corless.
She identified 796 infants and children, who died in the facility, between 1925 and 1961, for whom there were no burial records.
That ultimately led to the Commission of Investigation into Mother-and-Baby Homes, which shone a light on the practices in Tuam and elsewhere for much of the 20th Century.
It has taken more than ten years to get to the stage we are now at.
Survivors and relatives of those who lived and died in the Tuam home are hopeful that their long search for justice is nearing an end.
However, there is still a way to go before anyone can say that the infants are belatedly accorded the respect that was denied to them, in both life and death.
The Mother-and-Baby Home in Tuam was operated by the Bon Secours religious order on behalf of Galway County Council.
One person who worked there for the entirety of the time it operated, Julia Devaney, described it as a "cold and loveless place".
It was also a forgotten place, hidden in plain sight. Somewhere that 2,219 women were admitted to over more than three and a half decades.
Most of them from Galway and Mayo. Many of them "in trouble", to use the parlance of the times and all, in some way, judged and condemned by the society around them.
Records show there were a total of 3,349 children resident in Tuam over the years. Almost half were born in the home. Figures show 802 died there.
A large number of these are thought to have been buried on the site, their remains placed in two structures, that corresponded with the location of a sewage tank on Ordinance Survey maps.
Contemporary monitoring of conditions at the home was patchy, to say the least.
There was a comprehensive inspection report in 1947 but little else to give a detailed insight into conditions there, until a 1959 visit by officials from the Department of Health.
They wrote of a poorly maintained, badly heated and totally unsuitable building and accommodating upwards of 140 children.
There was no floor covering and infants were in their bare feet.
Dormitories had "absolutely no heating", no carpets and no furniture, other than beds or cots.
In July 1960, the Minister of Health approved the closure of the home. It was officially shut on 31 August 1961.
In the decades that followed, a housing estate was constructed in its environs. Locals knew of the burial plot and tended to it diligently for over 50 years.
Nobody had an inkling about the volume of remains that had been placed there, until Catherine Corless joined the dots, through her diligent research.
The excavation and exhumation work in Tuam will be overseen by Daniel MacSweeney, the person appointed by the Government as Director of Authorised Intervention.
His role of is provided for as part of the Institutional Burials Act.
This allows for the forensic excavation, recovery and analysis of human remains, which were buried in a "manifestly inappropriate manner" in Tuam.
Since assuming the role in 2023, Mr MacSweeney has been steadfast in his commitment to inform survivors and relatives of his plans, in advance of making them known to the wider public.
His office has confirmed that preparations for the complex work at the site will begin shortly.
It is expected specialist engineers will commence further examinations there in the coming weeks, during which the burial area will be sealed off once more.
The exhumation and analysis will be done to the highest international forensic standards, but there is no doubting the scale of the challenge.
The process will take place on a phased basis, starting with excavation, followed by recovery of remains and then DNA matching.
Earlier investigations determined that there were infant remains in 18 chambers on the site.
Initial surveys have identified a range of bones from babies and children, up to the age of around six years.
That means there could be in excess of 200,000 bones to be found.
Each one will be logged as it is taken from the ground, to try to identify and individualise remains.
After that, efforts will be made to try to ascertain the causes and circumstances of death.
Where possible, infant remains will be returned to family members or buried in line with their wishes.
The director will also be responsible for determining the most appropriate manner for re-interring those that cannot be identified.
Since this story began to reverberate around the world in 2014, some of those directly impacted by what happened at the Mother-and-Baby Home have died, while others have fallen into ill health.
Many more are consumed on a daily basis by the need for answers and some form of resolution or closure to their own stories, and those of their siblings or parents.
At this stage, only a small number of DNA samples have been gathered from relatives of the infants thought to be buried at the site.
Hundreds more are waiting patiently for the call to provide the material that could assist in the identification process. All that is still to come.
Aside from the practical considerations, there are intangible aspects of this story that will resonate around Tuam and further afield for decades to come.
In the interim and final reports from the Commission of Investigation into Mother-and-Baby Homes, there were countless indicators of both the shame and shameful actions, that resided behind closed doors, over that 36 year period.
References to a sewage treatment facility used for the interment of juvenile human remains.
Accounts of barely furnished "playrooms" or hungry children eating moss from walls and photographs of other material found during initial site investigations.
Things like an infant’s shoe, rusted mugs and parts of old baby bottles.
All signifiers of little lost lives.
Weeks after another Commission of Investigation was announced, on foot of the report into historical sexual abuse in schools run by religious orders, there is a sense that pulling back the veil on what happened in Tuam is just part of a much wider journey.
That will involve society grappling with what generations turned away from, either through fear, ignorance or acquiescence.
For all the slow but steady progress in Tuam, it is a road which, right now, has no end in sight.