Cultural Sensitivity

Ponder the following events I’ve recently attended in Seattle:

Viking Days – an outdoor festival of many elderly Norwegians and Swedes reveling in their lingonberry pancakes – and it’s silent. Strangely silent. Pete had to explain to me that it was the sound of Scandanavians not expressing their feelings, and it was fine.

Indian Days Pow Wow – summer in Seattle with hundreds of elderly Native Americans wearing feathers, fur and down parkas, beating on drums – smiling, unlike the Norwegians – but also relatively silent.

Now, back to my roots, where I’m watching the longest running Woody Allen movie – my parents are very, very noisy, and it seems normal.

The latest – unwilling to part with any of their piles (see related news stories I’ve posted about hoarding), and desiring a place the size of a bowling alley, my parents have retreated into resistance and denial once again. There was a brief chapter where home-based nurses or cleaners were considered, mostly because the price tag seemed like a bargain compared to a residential facility. However, that phase has passed for now. I’ve been trying to prod them with active listening – “and what do you think will happen next”? “how does that make you feel”? It doesn’t work well with people who refuse to use technology such as hearing aids or a phone built after 1970.

I’m monitoring from afar, worrying about the next crisis, hoping they stay relatively safe.