I slept a little better last night although still fitfull. I am grateful that so far I have not dreamt that Tom is alive and had to go through the devastating realisation when I wake up. I'm always aware that life has changed and there is an empty space beside me but at the same time he is with me.

Yesterday the phone woke me at 7.50 which was late for me, but I was still to dazed to answer it and I lay there and just listened to the morning song birds and gathered my thoughts. I decided I would have to do something about Toms Manx Tails article for April. It had already gone in, but I felt maybe I should write something in addition by way of events after the article was completed. I got to work on it when I was half dressed. My sister Janet who has come over to support me was fluttering about trying to get me to drink tea, but I was focussed. Then came a bacon sandwich and another cup of tea as I busied myself with the task in hand. Eventually I had finished and emailed it off along with a little explanation. It was then that I glanced at my watch and saw it was 9.50 a.m. I had to be at the Castletown registry office to have the death certificate filed etc. It only opens between 9 and 10 a.m so I ran down the stairs, threw on my coat, got the car keys and shouted my intentions to my sister as I ran out of the door.

I arrived at the registry office which is in the Castle and was ushered into a room to wait until another client had finished their business. That is when I had my resolve not to cry, suddenly shattered. As I glanced into the room, I recognised it from some years previously as the room we had sat in when Tom had been best man for his friend David. I couldn't go in and the tears welled up in an instant. I opted to sit on a seat outside the office I would be entering soon to file the certificate. I remenisced about the wedding. There had been some humour when Tom had been asked to sign the register. I had taught Tom to sign his name when he had to sign books and was happy he could do the task in hand. Then the registrar asked Tom to print his name. Panic welled up in me as I knew Tom didn't know how to print it. I asked could he not sign it and the answer was that it had to be printed. With that I had to go to Toms side and guide his hand to actually print his nme.It brought me back to the only other time he had to write his name and that was when we got married. He always signed with a cross and I asked him before the wedding could he please write his name otherwise I could be married to anybody. I don't know how he did it on that occassion but he did.All I know is that as he was writing it he said he was panicking as he couldn't remember how a Y went. All the time he slowly printed his name he was trying to recall the 'Y'. He said just as he finished the 'E', there must have been devine intervention as it just came to him. He said the only letters he really new off by heart where LOPVIRE and that was because he had a cup which he drank tea from at his mothers which had the letters on and he would feel them with his fingers whenever he had a drink. It said LIVERPOOL.

I'm digressing and yet again I feel I want to digress for now as I want to talk about Tom. Toms school taught him well as everyone will appreciate but he was taught to cumminicate in Braille. In that world he was taught the alphabet initially with some thick manilla paper and a spike which was used to formulate the Braille equivalent of a letter and it was a combination of 6 dots. Then he was taught on a Braille machine which made it so much easier which again is like a very old typewriter only with 6 keys that where used in different combinations. When the keys were pressed, they all had to have equal pressure or the letter required would turn out entirely different if a dot was too faint to be read. I know you are all wondering how he managed to write his book, emails and blog etc. I'll save that for tomorrow and just say for now hat he was a truley remarkable man with a determination to that would leave even me open mouthed.

Back to my day sitting outside the registry office in the castle. My turn came and I had pulled myself together after my little weep. The lady registrar was sensative and understanding. Sh asked me the normal fullname, DOB type questions and I watched her write it down with her fountain pen. She got to the point where it asked for relationship to the deceased and as I was reading upside down from my side of the desk, it took a little longer. It didn't look like 'Wife of the deceased'. Then I had my next shock; 'Widow of the deceased.' Until then I was Tom Glasseys wife and now I was a widow, but inside me screamed 'No, I'm Tom Glassey's wife.' When I told her she said everyone got a shock when they saw that. I'm over it now and no matter that I will have to write widow on forms, I'm still Tom Glassey's wife.

I left the registry and realised I should have been in the hairdresser 10 minutes ago as it was now 10.55 a.m. I hadn't been able to leave Tom for quite sometime and now was the time to get my poor old grey roots done to make myself look my best for Tom on Saturday. I dashed to the hairdressers without any money as I had spentwhat I had in the registry getting copies of the certificate. Denise the hairdresser understood and I was able to sit and ponder for a while as I sat there. There was much more yesterday which doesn't seem so important now. The only embarrassing thing about the registry office and a few hours in the hairdressers was that I had run out the house so quickly, I still had my bed socks on!