Joan Knodell Carreiro

She was the widow of Frederick C. Carreiro, Jr. of Brookline, Ma and the sister of the late Nancy Knodell McMorrow of Orleans, Ma.

Born in Milton, Ma she attended Milton High School, Chamberlain School, Bates College and Boston University. She was assistant to the Curator of Textiles at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston when she married Frederick C. Carreiro, Jr. of Brookline and Cambridge, Ma.

They had long dreamed of living on Cape Cod and when the opportunity arose to open their own flower shop, they moved to Hyannis and the rest is history.

For years she was a volunteer at the Bookstore of the Centerville Library and a member of the Hyannis Chess Club, as well as the Hyannis Yacht Club. She was a 50 year member of the D.A.R. and spent her retirement years researching Gloucester and Coastal Maine where her ancestors settled in the early 1600’s.

Surviving her are her niece, Jane M. Ray (Scott) of VA and their children Michael of TX, Connor (Anna) of NY and Alexis of Boston and her nephew Jeffrey McMorrow of Orleans, Ma. In Canada, she is survived by her sister in law, Shirley Abberton Carreiro, widow of Dr. Richard Carreiro of Nova Scotia, their children Paul (Agnes) of Nova Scotia, Lisa (Sandi) of Ontario, Donna (Lawrence) of Manitoba, Dr. Stephen (Marlene) of Quebec and Linda (Richard) of Calgary.

Funeral and Burial will be private and a remembrance of a life well spent will be celebrated at the Hyannis Yacht Club at a future date.

It was Joan’s wish that any memorial tributes be made in the form of charitable donations to the Centerville Library Book Store.

Remember me when I am gone away,

Gone far away into the Silent land;

When you can no longer hold me by the hand,

Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.

Remember me when no more day by day

You tell me of our future that you planned:

Only remember me; you understand

It will be late to counsel then or pray.

Yet if you should forget me for a while

And afterwords remember, do not grieve:

For if the darkness and corruption leave

A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,

Better by far you should forget and smile

Than that you should remember and be sad.

Christina Rossetti