The ex-business magnate and one-time senator, Mary-Ann O’Brien, is intimately familiar with loss. As she candidly puts it herself, she has a “master’s qualification in the subject.” Her past is marked with several personal tragedies including the heartrending loss of her twins, John, who passed away before he was even born, and Jack, who left her at just 22 months of age. She experienced yet another blow with the accidental demise of her teenage step-son, Sam – all of these occurred within a sorrowful six-year period in the 1990s. Later, she suffered the quick, successive deaths of her mother and father. Recently, she has been mourning the loss of her husband and soul mate, Jonathan Irwin, who left this life three months ago.
Currently, she is seeking refuge in the comfort of her home in the Mount Juliet estate in Thomastown, Co Kilkenny, where she moved with Jonathan almost ten years ago. The walls of their home are filled with reminders of their four-decade-long journey together – art, photographs and framed passages from newspapers and magazines. Potted plants have taken over the window ledges and are even suspended from the kitchen ceiling, adding to the lived-in, homely feel of the space. Four dogs – two bulldogs, a Italian greyhound, and a collie-whippet mix have taken up beds scattered around the cream Aga.
Still reeling from the sudden loss of Jonathan’s robust and jovial voice, Mary-Ann tirelessly emulates him during our conversation, which she feels he would have revelled in. Now, she finds herself in a position to honour an important landmark of their shared pursuit – the Jack and Jill Children’s Foundation.
Just this month, the charity organisation they created over 26 years ago has welcomed its 3,000th family. The foundation offers in-home nursing assistance and respite services for children experiencing severe cognitive impairment. All the families under the foundation’s care share a similar story – each grappling to provide constant care for a child with intricate needs, a situation Mary-Ann herself knows only too well.
Jack, their son, was seemingly in perfect health when he was born on February 29, 1996, at the National Maternity Hospital, although he was described as a “very mucusy boy”. The day after his birth, Jack spent his first night in the hospital nursery, where it’s speculated he experienced a cot death. Following this, Jack was unable to swallow or see, and he was completely immobilised.
Despite their paediatrician’s blunt warning of the emotional toll it would put on them, their marriage, and their other two young children, they decided to take Jack home. To receive state support for his care, it was suggested they leave him in a children’s hospital, an idea they could not entertain.
The family spent 22 challenging months at home with Jack, enduring constant crying and frequent pain. Despite the hardship, his mother believes Jack had a purpose, teaching them a significant amount about humanity. She admits that they struggled to cope.
Caring for Jack, which often involved tube-feeding that could last up to 18 hours a day, was a daily challenge. It was made more difficult by frequent interruptions from reflux, vomiting and epilepsy. His mother was fully invested in his care, while his father grew increasingly frustrated and upset over the lack of assistance.
While the absence of official aid was infuriating, they found support from “amazing neighbours” in Ballitore, Co Kildare, who showed up to offer practical assistance. Among these helpful volunteers were two nurses, Nora Byrne and Imelda Whelan, who had a significant impact on their lives.
In the end, the mother states that while it’s satisfying to have a business and earn money, there’s incomparable joy in making other people’s lives more bearable. Jack and Jill, the pride and joy of their home, were the proof of that.
The infant flourished as a result of their nurturing care. Nora, for instance, revealed that water was advantageous. The child was often fed in the bathtub as it seemed to reduce the frequency of his epilepsy fits. The couple received a sum from Richard Butler, Jack’s godfather, which they used to hire nursing assistance. They employed four women, who worked various shifts and overnight hours.
Mary-Ann was able to rest and recommence work in her prosperous chocolate enterprise, Lily-O’Brien’s, thereby injecting some joy back into their lives. Their other two offspring, Lily and Phonsie, started witnessing their parents’ happiness return. As Mary-Ann concedes, there were times when she was unable to send them to school.
“Jack and Jill was an idea hatched at the kitchen table. Our personal experiences enabled us to begin experiencing some happiness returning to the house, which included the baby. His quality of life had greatly improved in his final year,” they added.
They wanted to extend this support to other families experiencing similar issues. “Our expertise was mainly in horse racing and chocolate,” she claims. “But we knew plenty of people.”
The couple had been involved in the luxurious world of horse racing for a considerable amount of time – she, as the daughter of trainer Phonsie O’Brien, who was the brother of Vincent, and Jonathan, who worked as a bloodstock agent and CEO of Goffs horse sales. They utilised the generosity of their affluent contacts to finance the creation of a charity. At 55, Jonathan decided to devote all his time to the charity, using his vibrant disposition and innovative approach to raise funds, increase awareness, and lobby politically for Jack and Jill for the next two decades.
“God help the person who was approached by Jonathan as he was hard to refuse,” mentions Mary-Ann, who is 20 years his junior.
Their initial meeting, which happened to be a job interview for her at Goffs in Co Kildare, was not love at first sight. Both of them seemed eager to exit the room.
In Jonathan’s autobiography, Jack & Jill, published in 2014, he candidly depicted the first impressions they had of each other; she thought he embodied the image of a stuffy business man and he characterised her as an extreme socialist. Despite their initial misgivings, destiny brought them back together while working at Dublin’s Phoenix Park Racecourse and after the dissolution of Jonathan’s maiden marriage to Mikaela Rawlinson. Jonathan expressed in his writings,“We discovered we had a good rapport”, even though he maintained that they didn’t have much in common.
Mary-Ann agreed to this sentiment, noting their stark differences: she was fond of outdoor activities including gardening and relaxing with her dogs, while Jonathan preferred quieter occupations such as reading comfortably by the fireside. However, despite their personal differences, they found common ground in their entrepreneurial pursuits. They would jointly brainstorm innovative strategies for fundraising for their charity, often utilising their kitchen table as a makeshift boardroom.
Mary-Ann put her entrepreneurial spirit into action when she partially sold her stake in Lily O’Brien’s in 2013, subsequently offloading the rest in 2018 in a transaction reportedly worth approximately €40 million. Around the same time, she received a nomination to the Seanad in 2011 by the then PM, Enda Kenny. The nomination allowed her a seat at the table with the influential at Leinster House which delighted Jonathan.
However, she found her position in the agricultural committee to be both fascinating, yet challenging. She stated that the pace of change was considerebly slower compared to the corporate world and required an immense amount of patience. Mary-Ann expressed that in an alternate universe, she feels she could have been quite successful in politics, were it not for her existing commitments.
Feeling fortunate for the opportunity, she didn’t have to worry about securing votes for re-election. Instead, she was able to focus wholeheartedly as she was assured of her role for the next five years.
She used this time to delve earnestly into the matter of regulating charities, a topic close to home. They believed total transparency was essential when soliciting funds, something they found sorely missing in other organisations.
Both were actively involved in establishing Lucinda Creighton’s Renua party back in 2015. Jonathan aspired to vie for a political role, but his dream never materialised, primarily due to his health issues, as stated by Mary-Ann.
Slowly but surely, his health deteriorated, surprisingly catching up with him. His cancer was managed, but it sadly robbed him of his ability to walk and digest food. From a man full of life, Jonathan struggled to keep awake and to eat in his last years.
Mary-Ann took on the role of his carer. To quote him, she was a ‘great organiser’ rather than a ‘great carer’; she had assistance from others. However, she single-handedly had to bear witness to her beloved’s gradual physical and intellectual decline.
Bonding over weekend newspaper readings set the stage for stimulating conversations. She greatly missed her companion and the mental stimulation their discussions provided. “It was grief on the drip,” she muses, quickly shifting her focus towards the silver lining.
She lived in a well-equipped house that didn’t resemble a clinic. Jonathan was impressively cordial and appreciative throughout his period of sickness. He could witness the Nore river and the trees from his bedroom. His balcony was also adorned with a garden for his visual pleasure. Regardless of his diabetic condition, she made sure his desired needs, which were reasonable, were met. He would often express his gratitude for feeling fortunate despite his circumstances.
In spite of his deteriorating health, she assumed he would survive for another decade. Even given his advanced age of 82, his near-death caught her off guard like a sudden blow. The reality of it is only now beginning to sink in.
“Still, we consider ourselves fortunate to have experienced what we did,” she remarks as she gets up from her armchair to save her knitted cap from the jaws of Ruby, her bulldog who lay in her bed. Mary-Ann and Jonathan didn’t look at her furry friends with the same affection. These animals play a crucial role in her recovery process. In his autobiography, Jonathan spoke about never having arguments with Mary-Ann but admitted his temper was tested over a Chihuahua she brought home which he strongly disliked.
It’s paramount for us to be mindful of our budget, since we don’t want to be put in a position where we have to turn down offers. However, we heavily depend on the altruism of the public.
Laughing, she remembers the time she bought a Chihuahua for their daughter Lily, a decision Jonathan was on the verge of divorcing her over, due to his mere tolerance of dogs and his inability to comprehend her adoration for them. “In the end, he conceded,” she says.
Prior to his death, she visited him in hospital and informed him that the dogs had been asking about him. He responded jovially that he couldn’t wait to see them on Monday. He would often humorously comment on Mary-Ann’s chaotic nature and how the house resembled a dog shelter.
On the fateful morning of December 10th, a day before he was slated to be released from the hospital, he told the nurses that he wasn’t feeling hungry. They decided to return later to administer a hydrating drip. He reclined onto his pillow and within a snap, his life ended unexpectedly—a peaceful death, oblivious of its incoming.
However, his abrupt departure was a shock to her and their children—Lily, residing in London, Phonsie, who lives in Dublin, and the youngest Molly, affectionately dubbed “a blessed arrival” after experiencing the loss of Jack. Molly had recently moved back from Amsterdam before her father’s sudden death but plans to relocate to London soon.
Mary-Ann speaks candidly about her sorrow for her lost loved one, admitting how difficult it was for her to see his suffering. She recalls wanting to hold onto what was left, desperate for some semblance of normalcy despite knowing that his future was bleak.
Following the loss of two of their children, Jonathan became her rock. However, the death of Sam, his 18-year-old son from a previous marriage, struck him hard. Mary-Ann depicts Jonathan as being in despair for a year, crying daily before he decided to turn his life around.
To continue pushing forward, Mary-Ann throws herself into work. Following the loss of her sons, she used her tireless work ethic as a coping mechanism. These days, she turns to nature and staying physically active as a means to manage her grief.
At 63 years old, Mary-Ann contemplates her future. With potentially one-third of her life still ahead, she continues to work, albeit on a smaller scale than before. She remains dedicated to the Jack and Jill charity.
In her view, the charity’s greatest achievement is its longevity, exemplified by its recent milestone. Over the years, they’ve expanded the age range of children they support and now provide end-of-life care at home for all up to six years old without a diagnosis prerequisite. The charity’s annual budget of €7.5 million, however, is challenging to maintain, with government funding covering only 22 percent.
Finances are an ongoing concern, yet Mary-Ann stands firm in their approach of never rejecting anyone despite depending largely on public generosity.
After Jonathan’s departure, she is certain that he would have encouraged her to directly request Easter donations from anyone who happens to read this, or to patronise any of their 16 charity outlets for purchases or contribution of unused items. This typecast of economy brings joy to them. The catalogue for its eighth innovative Incognito online art sale will be available immediately following Easter, precisely on April 4th (incognito.ie).
Mary-Ann, who frequently emphasises her fortunate state of financial stability and familial support, has immediate aims of getting healthy, and staying alive, despite feeling a bit rattled. Once she regains her health, she anticipates unpredictable events as she gets set to face the world again.
As she concludes the conversation, she praises the dogs for their excellent behaviour after a morning stroll, saying, “well done, dogs”. She had cautioned them beforehand. After my departure, she is bound to take them out for another stroll to the farthest corner of the estate. This routine resilience she has adopted is a balm for her sorrow.
Here’s a numerical overview of Jack and Jill:
– The charity was established 26 1/2 years ago.
– Up to the current month, 3,000 families have received nursing care.
– In 2023 alone, the charity was able to assist 534 families.
– With the necessary funds, a family could receive up to 80 hours of nursing care per month.
– To maintain its services, the charity needs €7.5 million annually.
– The state provides €1.7 million of these funds, the remaining comes from public contribution.