Mary Jarrett: A Life of Love, Resilience, and Independence

(1927–2025)

Early Life

My mother, Mary Jarrett, lived a remarkable life filled with determination, kindness, resilience, and warmth. Born on March 29, 1927, in Chorlton-upon-Medlock, Manchester, Mary’s beginnings were shaped by secrecy and societal pressures. Her birth mother, Eileen Kelly, was a young Irish teacher pressured into giving Mary up for adoption shortly after her birth. Mary was adopted by Bert and Gladys Jarrett in Manchester; Bert was a gentle man, providing warmth and love, whereas Gladys was strict and distant, shaping Mary’s independent and resilient nature from an early age.

During World War II, Mary was evacuated to a farm near Pendle Hill in Lancashire. The farm offered a stark contrast to her strict upbringing, fostering a deep love for nature, animals, and independence. This experience profoundly shaped her character and instilled values of resilience and self-sufficiency.

Academic and Professional Achievement

– an Intelligent Women and Her Early Friendships

Mary excelled academically, attending Hollies Catholic Convent on scholarship. She developed a lifelong passion for classical music and literature, mastering numerous instruments, including piano, violin, accordion, and oboe. In 1945, aged 18, she embarked on a career with Manchester City Council’s Library Services, notably at the Music Library, combining her professional and personal passions.

In 1948, Mary moved reluctantly to Cornwall due to her adoptive mother’s decision. Despite initial frustration, she adapted quickly, taking a librarian role at Redruth Library. She rapidly progressed, becoming Head Librarian due to her dedication and expertise. Her career took a significant turn in 1957 when she established Cornwall’s pioneering Children’s School Library Service, promoting literacy and education across the region. She built enduring friendships during this time, particularly with Deborah, Joan Butler, Judith Tregenza, and Marjorie Wilson, friendships which profoundly influenced her life.

Deborah became an especially important figure. Mary provided unwavering support through Deborah’s lifelong mental health struggles. After Deborah married Michael McKeown (my father), tragedy struck when Michael took his own life in 1964, unaware that Deborah was pregnant with me. Mary’s support was crucial when Deborah attempted suicide during pregnancy; Mary found and rescued Deborah, saving both our lives.

My Mother

On April 2, 1965, I was born, and Mary stood by Deborah throughout the birth. From my first moments, Mary took on the role of my co-mother, providing the stability, love, and structure crucial for my upbringing. Our early family life at Cherrystones in St Agnes was happy, filled with warmth, pets, particularly our dachshund Pretzel, and joyful memories. However, Deborah’s ongoing mental health struggles brought challenges, and Mary always worked tirelessly to provide stability amidst upheaval.

Mary ensured my education remained consistent, even through disruptions, notably when we temporarily moved to Scotland. Returning to Cornwall, Mary secured us a stable home in Penzance, emphasizing my educational stability. Later, health issues forced her early retirement, prompting her move to Devon and eventually settling at Kercombe Barn in Gittisham, a home she lovingly renovated and cherished for almost 50 years.

Throughout my schooling, Mary fiercely supported my education, notably intervening when I was diagnosed with dyslexia and faced being placed into a remedial class. Her advocacy kept me on a trajectory that enabled university education and career success.

In 1981, Deborah tragically took her own life, profoundly impacting us both. Mary provided unwavering emotional support, ensuring our home at Kercombe Barn remained filled with love and stability. During my college and university years, The Barn was known for its warmth, hospitality, and laughter. My friends affectionately nicknamed Mary “Piglet” for her distinctive laugh and generous hospitality.

Mary celebrated joyfully when I married Annie in 1988. She eagerly welcomed her three grandsons—Jake, Miles, and Max—into the world, frequently visiting us and enthusiastically participating in their lives. She created special traditions, notably the famous “biscuit tin” hospitality, ensuring everyone felt welcome and well-fed.

Mary’s Family

Mary deeply valued her family, cherishing lasting connections with her adoptive sister Pauline and foster sisters Val and Pam, whose presence enriched her life greatly. She held a special place in her heart for their grandchildren—Helen, Mark, Emma, and Di—as well as their partners, embracing them all warmly into her life. Throughout the years, Mary created enduring family traditions filled with love and laughter, particularly the annual gatherings at Sidmouth before Christmas and the joyful visits to The Barn. These cherished moments became treasured memories, reflecting Mary’s unwavering commitment to family and the deep bonds she nurtured.

The Barn & Mary’s Friends

Life at The Barn continued to be a hub of friendships, community gatherings, book clubs, and spirited intellectual debates. Mary nurtured deep relationships with neighbours and friends, including Clare and Nick Chapman, Maggie Walker, Jan Steele-Perkins, Gina King, Tracy Butler, Kathy Eveleigh, Sarah Abbott, Richard Saunders, and many others who became like extended family.

Even as Mary aged and became physically frailer, she remained fiercely independent, adapting effortlessly to modern technology. She communicated regularly through social media and maintained her sharp wit and active engagement with the world around her.

Mary’s Passing

Mary passed away peacefully on February 9, 2025, following a stroke, exactly as she had always wished—surrounded by loved ones, I was holding her hand, in her beloved home at The Barn. Her final resting place is among the wildlife she cherished, scattered in her garden and placed within the roots of trees planted in meaningful locations.

Mary’s extraordinary life is a legacy of resilience, kindness, intelligence, and unconditional love—a life that touched many profoundly and continues to inspire.

Epitaph: A Life Well Lived

My favourite poem is “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night” by Dylan Thomas. While Mary did not rage in the traditional sense of the word, the essence of the poem—strength, determination, and refusing to simply fade away—feels deeply reflective of who she was.

Mary was a strong, independent, and fiercely determined woman. She lived life on her own terms, with intelligence, humour, and an unshakable spirit. Even as she aged, she remained sharp, engaged, and active, refusing to let frailty define her. She did not simply go gentle—she embraced life with resilience and continued to shape the world around her until the very end.

She was deeply loved by those who knew her, and she loved them in return. She leaves behind a legacy of warmth, wisdom, and unwavering strength—a testament to a life well lived.

For Mary

Do not go silent into the night’s embrace,
Stand, stand against the fading of the day.
With wit and wisdom, light upon your face,
You walked your path, determined in your way.

Soft hands that fed the birds, that held my own,
A voice that carried laughter, sharp and bright.
A home you made, a love you fiercely sown,
You did not yield, you held on to the light.

Though time did call, your spirit did not wane,
Your mind, a fire that would not dim or sway.
A heart that gave, through joy, through love, through pain,
You stood until the light slipped soft away.

So rest now, where the wildies sing and play,
And know your love will never fade away.

Mary did not rage(much!)—but she stood strong, loved fiercely, and lived fully, right until the light faded. And for that, she will always be remembered.