Mary Margaret Barrett
July 04/1924 – March 30/2010

Mary was first and foremost our mother, a job she took very seriously. We were always her primary concern and she continued to express her love for us right up to the end. We are so grateful to have been with her during the last few hours of her life. Her love for each of us was deep and unqualified.
Our mom had many other notable qualities other than her fierce loyalty to her family. She loved to bowl and after her stroke, even dreamt of “bowling with watermelons”. She loved baking and many of our fondest childhood memories are of arriving home from school to the smell of fresh baked bread, still warm from the oven and covered with sugar icing. But it wasn’t just her family who loved it when she baked. She arguably made the best bread in Paris, but was too shy to enter a loaf in the Paris Fall Fair to be “officially judged”. Nonetheless, she was full of pride when it would disappear in minutes at the Sacred Heart Church Garden Party.
She enjoyed the simple things in life -things that many of us take for granted. She loved the smell of lilies and to listen to the songbirds sing, particularly the cardinals. As she relaxed with age her sense of humour emerged and she would laugh heartily at life’s little ups and downs. She appreciated the beauty of gardens but didn’t particularly like gardening as a hobby. She loved Christmas, enjoyed ceramics, knitting, walks with her friends, and car rides for a maple walnut ice cream cone. The Saturday night after church get-togethers at Jim and Eleanor’s and the Sunday dinners each week with her family were times she cherished dearly.
As adults we have never had any trouble singing our mother’s praises. Our friends and family know that we loved her deeply, appreciated and admired her strength and courage. But as teenagers we were different. It was hard for us to see the values and qualities that were instilled in us. Values such as love, caring for others, compassion, responsibility, and family were lying dormant. To an outsider, the Barrett household often looked chaotic and out of control. Unfortunately, there are too many examples to illustrate this point. After every one of the infamous “pig roasts” mom would have to get up early to clean up the street before the neighbours awoke. These all to common incidents caused many to whisper, “Mary has a hard life” and “those children are such a burden”.
She never thought this to be the case. Mom made each one of us feel special and she revelled in our accomplishments, she hurt with our sorrows, and she felt sheer joy and delight in spending time with us.
After her stroke (1997) and Dad’s death, she worried she would become a burden. Again to most outsiders this appeared to be the case. Many expressed concern that caring for her meant “a hard life for us” and “she would become our burden ”
However, to us this was not the case. We never waivered in our family commitment to care and love her in the way she cared for and loved us. To be able to show our love for her and each other every day is a privilege not many families get to experience. To an outsider, it may have looked like a tragedy and sacrifice but to us it was simply an expression of our love for her and each other.
This is not to say that it hasn’t been a difficult journey for our family. Particularly in the last couple of years the daily responsibility of care was experienced more deeply by Keith. We will always be grateful to him for his commitment to provide the extra daily support mom needed to maintain her dignity and much needed independence.
There is a saying:



“Blessed are those who give without remembering and receive without forgetting”.

“Thank you to all” for being so thoughtful and wonderful and please accept our sincere gratitude for your support, encouragement and prayers. Your kindness will never be forgotten and we believe it helped to keep Mom vital and happy right to the end. Of course, we will never forget what we received from her. In truth, she did everything and more for each of us and we were blessed to have her as our mother.

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