Things to archive (Nr. 3)

The way my grandma used to say
"min dirn"
to me
in the most loving way possible,
touching my cheek with just one finger.
My grandma was not a spoken out person.
She never said "I love you" or "I've missed you",
even though we didn't come to her farm that often
and she must've been lonely.
"Min dirn" (my girl)
was the leftover of
her
mother tongue
that used to be forbidden and repressed,
which is why she always tried to speak high German with us.
She had learned and internalized that
her
mother tongue
was primitive, not allowed to speak in school for her three daughters.
But when she became demented
her tongue fell into place again,
remembered the old sounds.
The language we all had unlearned,
the language we all were unable to reply to her in.
After her death, I never heard her dialect spoken again.