my trophy.

If you would have come to visit the Bork house when I was young, chances were high that I wanted to take you on a tour of the house. Yes, I wanted to show you all of the rooms, but there was one spot that was my favorite on the tour. It was my badge of honor, the one mark of my resilience and toughness. What is it, you ask? A trophy? A medal? A creation of mine? No. It was something much more impactful. It was a dent in the wall. I made that dent one day when I tripped and went head first into the hallway wall. It hurt like the dickens, but my head triumphed over the wall. Mind over matter. The dent wasn’t vast, but it was just enough. I left my mark. And I wanted everyone to know. I’d kneel down and show my tour members how my forehead fit perfectly in the dent, thus proving that I am the champion. In reality, it was a 2”x3” oval dent in the wall, about 6” above the baseboard. Nothing stellar to look at. But to me, it was somehow important. If I took you on a tour and showed you my dent, I’m both proud and sorry. Thanks for enduring it. :)