I could very much identify with this poem. Sometimes I can barely remember who I am myself, but when I look at myself in the bath or on the toilet, it all comes back to me.
I live in a retirement home, more like the waiting room for the morgue if you ask me. It's only through the patient kindness of my niece, Alison, that I can get my writing published online. God bless her, I'll remember her in my Will. When I die I'll be reunited with my Elisabeth.