The time was almost 9 pm when we got to visit Mombo on Saturday. It was so satisfying to see her in her own private room, with a minimum of medical apparatus. She was quite talkative and tried to sort out all the occurrences in what had been an incredibly long day that began when she woke up in the Care Unit. When she asked, “Was that today?” I had to say, “Must have been, since yesterday was your surgery, and you were knocked out until this morning.” Her look of astonishment told me that she was living in the middle of a whirlwind recovery, and I knew it was time for us to leave and for her to get some needed rest. Jeanne took a dinner break while we were there and was preparing to spend the night. As we were leaving, Mombo was having the nurse explain each of the medications she was being asked to swallow—precisely the kind of perpetual skepticism so essential in the hospital environment. I thought I might be able to rest easier. I figured she was in the clear.
On the way home we saw the awesome proximity of Venus with a crescent moon. This had to be the celestial image that inspired the Turkish national flag. What’s the story behind that? Dana saw her first “shooting star” as we crossed the Kentucky River. For some reason it made me think of when they were taking Mombo into pre-op. She had said, “I’m in good hands,” and I asked, “Do you mean with Truly?” She didn’t understand my question, so I whispered the answer in her ear. ”Your guardian angel.” She laughed, but I wasn’t sure if she remembered the name of her life-long protector.
Perhaps that meteor was in actuality a heavenly body. Truly was telling us my mother was “in the clear.”