Yesterday, one of my colleagues was away and we had a supply fill in for her. This young woman looked like Justine. She had long hair and glasses. Then she began talking and tears came to my eyes. She sounded just like Justine and used many of Justine’s mannerisms. I had to look away and compose myself. I didn’t want to start crying in the cafeteria or have to explain to her that she reminded me of my late daughter. That would be weird.

This has never happened to me before. I’ve heard her name a few times and it startled me. It’s not a common name. The woman that works for the eye glasses place has a daughter named Justine. She and I always had that connection. She told me she burst out crying when she heard Justine had been killed in a car accident last year. 

At the end of the day someone mentioned that the supply was “chatty”. That would be how I would describe Justine. She had a great enthusiasm and zest for life. She was very animated in her gestures, as this woman was. Someone asked her her age and she said 24. Justine was 29 when she died. There were many similarities.