Everyone, meet Jiska. She’s my special toy.
She was given to me by Sinterklaas, when I was 4 years old. In about 3 months time my mom would have a baby and my parents thought me having my own doll would be a good idea. It was.
From the moment I unpacked her I loved her. I didn’t want to put her down. She was always with me, even the first time I went to school after Sinterklaas. We all were allowed to bring one toy we got given, so Jiska was the one I chose to bring to school.
I can’t really remember if anything happened that day, but reality is, nobody was allowed to touch her. I remember when I was about 12 years old I dragged a friend out of the house by her hair because she would let Jiska alone.
Jiska doesn’t “do” anything. She can’t pee, eat, cry, or whatever dolls can do these days. She has a cloth body and the only moveable thing is her eyes.
She’s currently in a box in the attic, but thankfully Jay knows just how important she still is to me, so he put the box on top of the pile. Making her accessible all the time.
I realised yesterday, when I took her out for photos her eyes are starting to go yellow. This makes me sad. I want her to have the white eyes she always had. So I guess it’s time to find someone who cleans and repairs toys for a living…
This post was written for the link-up on the blogpost over at Tattooed Mummy.