Winnifred Lorean “Buddy” (Elder) Branby

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead

Scribbling on the sky the message ‘(S)He is Dead’.

Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,

Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

(S)He was my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;

For nothing now can ever come to any good.

-W.H. Auden

If you get this far, here’s a quick and simple overview of this amazing woman:

She grew up in Central Texas. Her dad shipped out to the Aleutian Islands during WWII. Came home, got his teaching degree in WA, and moved his growing family back to TX. 

She met my Dad on a blind date. He was in pilot training, and her cousin suggested she hook up with his buddy for a dance that was about 1-1/2 hours away. Dad drove her home afterwards and slept in the car outside their house. 

They wrote letters to each other and he asked her to get on a bus and meet him in Las Vegas. In blind faith, she did, and they married in the “Little Chapel around the Corner.” 

Over the next 58 years she moved household and kids to California, England, California, Tucson, California, Washington (Vietnam), California, Libya, Italy, Washington (Korea), Las Vegas, Phoenix, Washington, Fallon, Nevada; Anacortes, WA; and finally..... Lodi, CA. My Dad was my inspiration, but my Mom was my life support system. ❤️