Not long ago, I ran into a golfer I hadn't seen in years. I couldn't have told you what he'd ever shot. But the moment he saw me, he smiled. "Brett," he said, "I still think about something you told me."

I honestly couldn't remember what I'd said. He could. After an ugly hole, I'd told him, "Don't let one swing start making decisions for the rest of your day." He'd carried that into business, into his marriage, through the loss of his father.

It made me wonder how many people are carrying pieces of us that we'll never know about.