On being … a lasting impression

By Ingrid Sapona 

As adults, we move in a lot of different circles – professional, social, within family groups, etc. We often cultivate a profile within certain groups. For example, in their professional life, some work at being seen for their expertise, or for being reliable, or thorough, or good at putting people together. In other settings, while we might not intentionally cultivate a reputation, we may end up with one. For example, in my family, I tend to stay in touch with folks and so I’m kind of known as the one to ask what the cousins are up to. And sometimes people remember us for the things we enjoy. For example, if someone’s invited you to dinner and you know they’re a chocoholic, choosing what to bring as a thank you is a no-brainer. 

I was reminded this past week of how we end up being thought of – and remembered – when I read the obituary of a former work colleague. Besides being saddened to learn of her death at just 73, the notice was a beautiful summary of the many different things she was known for. Her impressive professional accomplishments were mentioned, but her many passions – the things I think she thought of as defining her – took centre stage. While some of our work colleagues might have been surprised to read of her passion for pie baking, I wasn’t. I fondly remember discussions we had about whether the perfect peach pie is double crust or lattice-topped. 

Word of her passing also brought to mind a comment she made to me when we first met. It was an offhand comment that made me feel I might not fit in to the department we worked in. Given that we got along professionally and socially after that, I don’t think her intention was to make me feel wary. Indeed, I doubt she would have even remembered saying it – and yet it’s something I’d never forgotten. It’s funny the things that stick with us. 

A few days ago, I got a snail mail birthday card from an out-of-town friend. It featured a tongue-in-cheek commentary about marking birthdays – it was a hoot. In the card she wished me well and added that every day she thinks of me as she tries to master my “shoe/sock balancing routine”. I honestly had NO idea what she was talking about. Not only that, she mentioned that she still envies my “quick work of that trick”. What trick, I thought. 

We were university roommates and so I scoured my memory bank to think of what she might possibly be referring to. Absolutely nothing came to mind. The more I re-read the card, the more convinced I was that she must have been thinking of someone else. Still, it bothered me because I wondered if I was oblivious to impressions I leave or if she was just mistaken. 

Finally, I decided to email her to ask. I confessed I had no idea what she was talking about. She responded promptly. It turns out, it wasn’t some long-ago deed – it was from the last time I visited her. She explained that as I was putting on my sneakers (which I’d left near the door) I did one shoe at a time, balancing on the opposite leg as I tied the laces. 

She explained in her email: “You were like a stork balancing yourself while putting on the shoes. Kinda … Zen. I recall offering you a chair, but you were about keeping/retaining your balance while doing this daily task.” Ahhh… that makes sense. Balance has always been something I’ve worked to maintain and I imagine we talked about that as I was getting ready to leave. 

These two odd anecdotes drove home to me the idea that human interactions are rather unpredictable. Sometimes we work at honing a reputation and making an impression and then other times we say or do something that seems quite incidental to us but that leaves a lasting impression on others. Given this, I guess the best we can hope is that others will accept us for who we are.   

© 2025 Ingrid Sapona