In Love, Tears, & the Croppy Flop

Yesterday was a catch up day. With Jay off so much this week, it’s been hard to get much done in any area of my life. When he’s home he demands my attention. I think it’s a Leo thing. He sulks when I stay on the computer for longer than 20 minutes at a time on weekends or evenings, unless I’m on a deadline, then he understands and gives me a little space. And lately he’s been very supportive of my 750 words exercise, no sulking on the weekend when I take a half hour to pound something out. He encourages me to write and wants me to push myself further, write the book, publish the book. He thinks I’ve got talent and I shouldn’t let it go to waste.

But other than that, if he’s here and I’m here, then we’re together, either sitting outside at the picnic table or on the couch, holding hands and snuggling, stealing kisses and hugs, making eyes at one another. And I suppose this is normal for this stage of our relationship. I mean yes we’re married, but still we’re at the very beginning of it all. We’ve only lived together for 6 months. We’re still falling more in love with each other every day. We’re still snuggling and cuddling all night long, murmuring “I love you” in our sleep.

He’s such a Mama’s Boy! In many ways like a little baby, despite his gruff exterior, sharp temper and stubborn streak. Make no mistake, if you cross him, he’ll fuck you up! He’s not afraid to get into an altercation and he’s got the scars to prove it. And when he takes out his gun it truly scares the bejesus out of me because I don’t have a doubt in my mind that if he feels that I’m in danger or he is, he will pull the trigger.

But at night when we’re snuggling in bed, whispering love yous to each other as I rub his back until he falls asleep, he’s just a little boy who was all alone in the world from the minute his Mama died until he found me. The last thing he whispers as he drifts into dreamland is always, “I love you my beautiful girl.” He tells me I’m beautiful many times a day. And he calls old friends and tells them how much he loves me and what a good girl he has now and how beautiful she is. I’m so not used to anything like this, but it’s good. He tells me I have his whole heart.

And I know he means it because it’s not just empty words, he shows me everyday by the things he does.

And I wonder if it will always be this way or whether all this affection will eventually taper off. I think it might always be this way, because I think that’s just the way he is, or at least it seems like that from the way he talks to his family on the phone and the stories he tells me from his past.

He can’t talk about his mother without crying. He can’t hear certain songs on the radio without having tears, either because they remind him of his mother or they remind him of me. Sad tears for his mom, just overwhelming love for me. He’s very emotional and he doesn’t bottle it up or take it out in other ways, like a lot of men do, he cries like a little boy, sobbing into my neck as I cradle his head and try to soothe him. Since I’ve known him I’ve seen tears at least once a week, sometimes more. I’ve never been with a man like this. I don’t even think I know any other men like this. In many ways he’s fearless. He hardly ever holds back. And this makes me feel fearless too, like I can say anything or do anything, no matter how stupid or bizarre or just outright crazy, and he won’t judge me. He won’t love me any less. I’ve never felt so free to just be myself, to let my guard down.

Yes, we have our fights, some of them knock down drag em, but they’re always followed by apologies and acceptance of responsibility and long serious talks that lead to an even deeper understanding of one another. Nothing gets buried under the rug here, we deal with it, we grow from it.

But enough gushing about my sweetie, I came to the blog this morning to tell you about the latest excitement in the trailer park.

Yesterday afternoon around 4:30 when I was on the phone with Dad, sirens approached and I went to look out the door and see what it was and where they were going. It was a fire truck and ambulance and they came into the park, and went down Little Mexico way. They always send a full size fire truck with the ambulance for some reason, even if there’s no fire. It’s a little bizarre.

I told Dad that somebody had probably overdosed (because that happens a lot around here), or maybe a grass fire had gotten away from someone (because our fire index is high right now and there are a lot of fires on the news every night) or maybe one of the older people had a spell (because we’ve got a lot of seniors living here too).

But then the vehicles turned around and came back, pulled into our section and drove down past my camper to the end of the lane. I went outside to see what was going on. My first thought was that maybe Miss Babs’ husband had an episode. She lives on the other side of Forrest, who lives right beside me. His name isn’t really Forrest, but he’s a young guy who reminds me of Forrest Gump. Miss Babs’ husband is over 20 years older than her, well into his 70’s and he’s had surgery that he’s recovering from plus he’s got the beginnings of dementia.

I went outside just as Miss Elizabeth (Grammie) was getting back from doing laundry at the laundromat in Covington. She had popped by before she left to see if I wanted to go with her or if I had any garbage I wanted her to take to the bin because she was running hers down. But I didn’t have anything, plus I was pretty busy working, so I thanked her for thinking of me and stayed home.

Miss Elizabeth and I met in the driveway and looked to see where the emergency vehicles were going. They pulled into Travis’ at the very end of the lane by the garbage bins and river, five spaces from me. Grammie used to live right there, beside Travis, but he tormented her so bad she had to move. That’s when we moved her up beside us. He’s a mean old man, would let the air out of her tires, steal her keys, scratch her car, cut her cable wire, etc. Our friend Ron, who lives in C Section (we’re in A) at the other end of the park, says it’s because Travis is from Louisiana and everyone from Louisiana has a chip on their shoulder and a vindictive streak. I thought that was crazy, but Miss Elizabeth says that explains a lot to her. She had thought Travis was from Georgia.

Travis is a drunk and also a drug dealer. He sells his prescription medication, oxycotin, etc. to skeleton like young men and women who pop into his place at all hours of the day and night. So I thought it could have been an overdose, if not him then one of his clients/friends. He’s probably in his mid to late 60’s or 70’s, so he could have just as easily had a stroke or something too. Grammie for one was certainly hoping that they’d take him and never bring him back, because even though she’s moved he still sneaks up in the middle of the night while me and Jay are sleeping and does stuff to her car. If Jay catches him, he’ll be in big trouble.

While we were standing around waiting to see what would happen, Forrest came home. Whenever he comes home and I’m outside he always comes over to ask me if I noticed whether his parents have dropped by while he was out. They stop by at least once a day to make sure he’s keeping his camper clean. They own it. He had a 5th wheel before but lost it in the flood, so his dad got this one. Jay said there was no need for it, he was down there pulling everyone out, but the guy wouldn’t go. Forrest says he likes this one better anyway because it’s got more room. I think his mom makes all his meals and delivers them everyday. They always arrive with bags and packages.

When Forrest first moved in beside us about 6 weeks ago, Jay was not happy. He said he didn’t want that “retarded homo” living behind us. Yes, my hun is not just prejudiced and politically incorrect, he’s also very homophobic, and he said that Forrest is gay. There is a guy who comes and visits on the weekends, who Jay says is his boyfriend, but I don’t know, neither one gives off a gay vibe to me. Jay said he saw them kissing one time though, but he’s super paranoid about those types of things, so I just scolded him for being too Republican redneck and told him to keep his hating thoughts to himself.

It wasn’t until just a couple of weeks ago that I had a conversation with the boy and realized he’s a “little light in the head” as Miss Elizabeth says. I said to Jay, “So when you call him a retarded homo, you really mean he’s a retarded homo.” And he was like, duh, that’s what I said. And I was like well I thought you just meant that he was gay, which was wrong enough, but now this is just wrong on so many levels, you can’t be making fun of the mentally challenged for godsake! Forrest seems like a nice enough guy to me. Harmless, happy all the time, always a big smile and a laugh. So Jay doesn’t say too much about him anymore. Now he just calls him my boyfriend. “Your boyfriend is outside fixing his awning.” That kind of thing. Which even tho I know he’s still thinking the other stuff, at least I don’t have to hear it.

Anyway, back to the excitement at Travis’ camper. After about 5 minutes they wheeled out a stretcher and put it in back of the ambulance. I was shocked to see they hadn’t covered the person up at all. There was a black woman strapped in, her arms bent at the elbows, hands like claws, her neck twisted sideways, gaping mouth snarling like a rabid cat. And she was stiff, not moving. She was like a statue of an attacking vampire, frozen. I figured she wasn’t dead because I hoped they would have covered her if she was, but she certainly looked dead, like rigor mortis had set in.

Immediately I thought she must have overdosed and gone into a seizure. But Grammie went down to see if Miss Babs knew what happened and it turned out that this woman has seizures all the time, so she must be epileptic or something. It’s kind of unusual to see a black person in this park. It’s a white place. Well, except for the Mexicans who rent the double wides in Little Mexico. But there’s a black man who comes around to root through the garbage bins for aluminum cans and other things he can sell for scrap. This girl, who lives with him and is either his niece or sister depending on who you ask, comes with him sometimes.

Apparently after an afternoon of dumpster diving they were sitting with Travis enjoying a cold drink when suddenly she started doing the croppy flop. That’s what Jay calls a seizure. He has a friend in Kentucky named Croppy that he used to work with. Croppy talks just like the Hillbilly Ninja from Jerry Springer the other day and lives in a house with no running water or electricity. One time they were out at a bar when Croppy’s daughter overdosed and took a seizure, so ever since Jay and John have called seizures the Croppy Flop.

Anyway, they took the black girl to the hospital and I guess she’s all right, I haven’t heard any more about it. And I probably won’t, because Travis would be the only one to know anything and not too many of his neighbours are still on speaking terms with him.

Now, it’s a gorgeous sunny Friday morning and I need to get some work done. This weekend is not supposed to be nice. Rain, severe thunder storms, hail, high winds and yes, they’re saying we’re most likely going to see some tornado activity. There were 32 yesterday in states to the west of us, Texas etc. and that’s the weather coming our way. At least Jay will be home with me. My worst fear is that I’m going to go through my first tornado all by myself.

2 thoughts on “In Love, Tears, & the Croppy Flop

Add yours

  1. You can totally stay in the honeymoon stage for years. Gary and I have been together for 15 years and he still tells me I’m beautiful at random times throughout the day. We still say I Love You every night as we fall to sleep. We still hold hands as we drive to and from work. We still enjoy each other’s company and miss each other when we are gone. It does exist and sounds like you have found it. πŸ™‚


  2. I’ve found something special for sure. So glad I didn’t settle somewhere along the way. Because this was definitely worth waiting for πŸ™‚


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