It happened again the other day. I caught sight of someone who looked so familiar it caused me to ask, “Is it live, or is it Memorex?”
No, it wasn’t anyone I knew. The stranger only looked like someone I once met. The resemblance was uncanny. It caused me to question whether Dolly the Sheep was actually the first cloned mammal or maybe just a brilliant cover up of something more sinister. Conspiracy theories (and watching one too many bad sci-fi movies) aside, I can’t tell you how often I’ve nearly given myself whiplash from the double takes caused by these sort of sightings.
Maybe the Doppelgänger theory—the idea that there are only so many combinations of physical traits possible and they must get repeated from time to time—is correct. After all, humans have only 46 chromosomes, which is less than a deck of playing cards. Maybe some people are getting dealt a similar hand. Who knows?
But what I do know is I’ve never seen the doppelgänger of someone I have truly loved. Oh, I’ve seen copies of my ex-husband’s friend’s sister, who I never really liked, or the lady who stocked my company’s break room with M & Ms, who, for obvious reasons, I did like. But I’ve never seen someone who looked like my mother, sister, or even my dearest friend.
Why is that?
Perhaps it’s because the doppelgänger could never be as good as the real thing. It would be impossible. Splenda doesn’t taste like sugar, no matter how we try to convince ourselves it does. And, I can always tell fat-free salad dressing from its fatter, more robust original, can’t you? When it comes to winning hands, my loved ones are better than any royal flush. And the doppelgänger, a pale comparison, couldn’t even walk in the shadow of my one-and-only, even if it wore the very same shoe size. So maybe my mind can play tricks on my eyes when I think I see someone who looks like someone else. But it can never fool my heart, which always knows the real thing when it sees it.
