Sometimes You Get To Know The Process Server

I have a rapport with a process server. And when I see her, she kind of sighs. And tests herself out loud to see if she remembers the details of the person she’ll need to deliver paperwork to.

She gets most of it right, and only misses because some little things have changed since I last saw her. But I’m still seeing her, so that means one big thing hasn’t changed.

“I wish things didn’t have to be this way.”

That’s what she said, and she doesn’t even know much about my life or why I’m handing her my debit card – again – or what happens quietly to me and my kids in consistently new ways.

Even with the things she’s seen and heard throughout her career, I’m willing to bet she can’t even imagine what we’ve endured and what we continue to overcome. Because that’s what we do every day – overcome.

We push through despite our circumstances. And I continue to see her every so often because I will use every avenue, and every proper channel available to me to make sure things are right. That the bullshit I endured will not be transferred to kids who are starting to understand things that a few years ago were too complicated and confusing to compute.

Little things remind you of where you are and where you’ve been and what you’re facing – and most times they come out of nowhere. A friendly conversation with a process server is one of them.