Marianne Barrington-Owens

Marianne Barrington Owens was a force to be reckoned with. Her family (lovingly) joked that if she was an animal, she’d be an elephant, because she couldn’t help but get her trunk into everything. That force – whether it be love or service or justice – took many forms and was targeted at many causes big and small over the years, but the lives of its countless recipients were undoubtedly changed for the better. 

Marianne grew up in Daytona Beach, Fl., the daughter of Gladys and Robert Barrington and the younger sister of Bob and John Barrington. She loved going to the beach, shrimping and fishing with her family on the St. John’s River, and working her various jobs at the florist, a vet clinic and the Daytona Dog Track. She graduated from Spruce Creek High School, then went on to earn her Associates Degree from Daytona Beach Community College, and her Bachelor’s and Doctor of Veterinary Medicine degrees from the University of Florida. 

She spent 44 years with her husband, Bill, who recently mused while looking at an old photo of them how anyone could not fall in love with her at first sight. The night they met involved a characteristically sassy remark from her but evolved into the kind of lifelong love in which she openly said she hoped she passed before him because she couldn’t handle life without him, and he tenderly held her in her final days while they prayed to God and clung to hope together. 

She spent years trying to get pregnant the first time around, undergoing painful fertility treatments and going so far as to sign up for an adoption list before she found out she would have a biological child — she wanted to be a mom that badly. She gave birth to her first daughter, Caitlin, on her and Bill’s 8th anniversary — lots of anniversaries were later spent at Chuck E. Cheese — and was then blessed with a second daughter, Carlye, a few years later. She juggled a demanding career with motherhood before it was common to do so, but nothing ever came before her children. When her kids were young, she gave up her career as a small animal vet to work on racehorses with Bill in order to have a more balanced family life, only one example of the many ways in which she put the needs of her family before her own desires. 

She was a devoted mother and always showed up, whether that was to volunteer in her kids’ classrooms, chaperone their field trips, cheer them on at sporting events, host their friends in her home or proudly applaud them at each and every one of their graduations. Her love and commitment extended into her children's adulthood, and her guidance and advice (whether solicited or not) on matters big and small will stay with them the rest of their lives. 

She became a mother-in-law two years ago when Caitlin married Luke, though her relationship with him began long before that, and her family joked that he eventually became her favorite child. They spent hours chatting in the kitchen or on the phone about everything and nothing and she treated him as one of her own.

And finally, less than a month before her death, Marianne became the grandmother of Asher, declaring the day before she died that she wanted to be called Nani. Through sheer force of will, she spent two days in a car while sick and weak driving from Florida to Virginia so that she could meet him and continue on with her plans to move near him. She spent every day that she could with him, despite not knowing how numbered they were, leaving no question about the depth of her love for him. He’ll grow up hearing about how loved he was before his Nani ever even met him. 

Marianne was a veterinarian and spent decades working alongside Bill at Tampa Bay Downs, but always offered her expertise freely to friends and family members with questions or concerns about their pets. The racetrack was more than just her workplace; it was a community of people whose days she brightened with her upbeat attitude and of whom many became her good friends. She cooked meals for dozens of people for chaplaincy gatherings, invited people with nowhere else to go for the holidays into her home for Christmas Eve parties and took the time to delve beneath the surface while interacting with people who could have otherwise just been clients or barn staff.

She loved gardening and was an avid reader, passing down the love of books to her kids. She found peace out on the Gulf of Mexico boating and fishing with Bill. She was a loyal Tampa Bay Buccaneers and Tampa Bay Rays fan. She obsessed over details like what to wear to events, interior design and wedding guest welcome bags, while at the same time emphasizing the overall importance of not sweating the small stuff. Of course, some small things were exempt; for instance, making the bed and having your nails done before a vacation. She was funny, unafraid to embrace an irreverent sense of humor or say things that were (at least in her kids’ opinion) absurd. Her spelling was terrible and she never quite learned how to use modern technology, but she laughed just as hard at herself as she did with — never at — other people.

She never met a stranger, whether she was in Publix doing her daily grocery run, serving meals to the homeless or getting to know her children’s friends. One of her strongest legacies is the way she made other people feel and the kindness she displayed to them. She remembered people’s favorite snacks, created a community that felt more like family and was the life of every party.

She also never stopped trying to help other people. In a world often marked by selfishness, self-promotion, division and callousness, Marianne was different. She cared deeply not only about her loved ones, but about people she encountered who were in need — many of which became her loved ones. She didn’t put too many words to her faith, but she lived out the commandment to love her neighbor as herself whenever the opportunity presented itself — which it did often. Her love was active and it was fierce and it made the world a better place.

She cared deeply about children. She was introduced to the Robles Park community through a church service camp and went on to adopt as her own the effort to love and nurture the children who lived there. She organized monthly meals and playtimes in the community park, took a smaller group of children to church on Sundays and mentored families who wanted her help. She became known in the community as a “grandmother to us all.”

Not everyone chooses to live a life that makes a difference, but Marianne did. While that life was tragically cut short, it was filled to the brim with love, service and a great sense of humor. She’ll live on through the many people who are different because they knew her and were changed by her love. Her trunk and its tendency to get into everything has ensured that in death, she will be lovingly remembered everywhere and in countless ways, both mundane and extraordinary.