IISZ 2018 Challenge #3 - Utterly Mistaken

[vagabond]

Mistaken Fear


I used to think Mom and Dad
had something on me:
remembering how crass,
how know-it-all
their offspring had been,
not to mention certain
embarrassing experiments.

Then, at some recent point
in time, I saw
how utterly mistaken I was.

Not only did they not remember
any of my sins or follies—
some days, unless reminded,
they didn’t quite recall
they had a son.  Of his qualities
faint traces, at the most, persist.

Instead I only can remind them
of the past, their past,
that something called “the past”
existed for them: houses, children,
work, vacations, suppers,
marriages, grandchildren,
yesterday’s lunch.

Where once I knelt in shame,
fear of remembering, reminded,
now I kneel to hold their hands,
anchor them to earth and time—
selfishly?  For if they slip
on past and upward, what
is life they live now
but precocious
Nirvana?

 there´s something forgiving about dementia. i think it tends to bring out the basic things (memories, emotions, character) from behind their complicated logical curtains of inhibition.
i probably don´t get the meaning of precocious in your context right, but i definitely like how its sound is similar to precious.