We carry two proverbs that contradict each other.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
Most of the time, we just pick the one that's useful in the moment. The truth is, both are real... and which one applies to you, when you leave a room or a job or a life chapter, isn't decided by time. It's decided by how you showed up while you were there.
I learned this twice in a month.
The first lesson came in an email. The subject line was nothing memorable. The first line stopped me in my chair.
"Dear Dr. Tori, you don't know who I am. Eight years ago, I was sitting in the corner of a room when you gave a talk at a lunch and learn."
She went on to tell me, in specific detail, what that talk had meant to her in the eight years since. Every few weeks, she said, something from it surfaces.
I remembered the talk. Forty people, fluorescent lighting, the kind of midday session you do without expecting much.
I had no idea she was in the room.
The second lesson came on a platform I rarely use. A Facebook Messenger note from someone I managed at a Chick-fil-A in 1990. Thirty years of silence. Then a few sentences thanking me for what he'd learned working under teenage me.
Two messages. Different decades. Same lesson.
If you want the answer to which proverb applies to you, look at how you operate now — in the room, in the meeting, in the relationship, in the chapter you're currently inside.
The people who get the eight-year email are the people who were fully present while they were there. Authentic. Sincere. They shaped someone's growth without keeping a ledger. They shared a moment of real connection. They said the thing that needed to be said in a way it would stick.
You won't have to chase being remembered. The remembering will chase you.
There's a part of these messages I didn't expect.
When someone reaches back to thank you (eight years later, thirty years later) they probably think they're giving you a one-directional gift. Hit send, message delivered, transaction complete.
It's not one-directional.
That email is still sitting on my desk. It's changing how I'm showing up this week. The Messenger note is the reason you're reading this post.
When you thank someone for the impact they had on you, you give them a gift the same size as the one they gave you. You're handing them evidence - specific, named, real - that the thing they did in the world didn't disappear.
Most people who do work that lands rarely get told it landed. The thank-you note is not closing a loop. It's opening one.
Think of someone outside your closest circle. A boss, a teacher, a coach, a coworker, a mentor... someone who said that thing you still think about.
Pull up LinkedIn or Facebook. Find them.
Write them. Specifically. "X years ago you said this, and here's what it's meant to me."
Then hit send.
Don't manage the outcome. Don't expect a reply. Don't write it to be noticed.
Just give the gift.
And know that it's traveling in both directions... whether you ever see the return trip or not.
If you’re busy and you want to have incredible success in your career and at home, then take a page out of your Influence Playbook. No more winging it. No more just going through the motions. And no more trying to control things (or people) you can't control.
Instead, control the controllables with The Influence Playbook:
50% Complete
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua.