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I am Jamila. A doll. I have waited and observed for a long time.
The day finally came. The house was quiet at first, then filled with hurried voices and footsteps. Eloisa was taken to the hospital. Hours passed. I remained in the crib, staring at the ceiling as sunlight moved across the room.
When they returned, everything had changed. Eloisa entered the nursery slowly, looking tired but radiant. In her arms was a tiny human wrapped in a soft blanket, Bernadette.
Jamila… nandito na siya.
Her husband helped her sit on the rocking chair. Eloisa gently placed the sleeping baby in the crib, right beside me. Bernadette’s tiny hand was closed into a fist near my dress.
For the first time, I saw the three of us together, Eloisa, Bernadette, and me. The golden thread on my dress caught the light and seemed to connect all three.
Bernadette, baby ko… meet your Ate Jamila. Siya yung naging guardian ko noon. Ngayon, siya na rin ang sa’yo. Eloisa whispered while tears fell from her eyes.
She took my hand and gently touched it to the baby’s cheek. The newborn stirred but did not wake. Eloisa smiled through her tears.
Spiral ‘to ng pag-ibig, Jamila. Hindi lang circle. Patuloy ito. Mula sa akin, patungo sa kanya… at balang araw, patungo sa susunod pa.
Her husband stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders. The room was filled with golden afternoon light. The three of us, past, present, and future, stayed together in silence.
Eloisa leaned down and kissed my forehead one last time, then kissed her daughter’s head. I observed the complete circle. Or rather, the spiral. I do not feel love, but I have witnessed its shape.
The new human has arrived. She is small and warm. Eloisa placed her beside me. Water fell from her eyes again, but her face showed peace. The golden thread connects us now, three generations. I remain a doll. I do not feel. But I am here, as I have always been, watching the spiral continue. — Jamila
