The Vow: The True Events That Inspired the Movie by Kim Carpenter, Krickitt Carpenter, Dana Wilkerson Page A

stranger in our own home.
    Krickitt’s doctors had suggested we watch the video of our wedding. They hoped it might trigger something in Krickitt’s memory about her married life. When I asked her to watch the video with me she agreed. We sat together on the couch and watched the entire ceremony. I could sense that she knew how important it was to me that she remember something—anything—about the event, and she tried to be encouraging. “I recognize that girl—that bride—in the video as me,” she said thoughtfully, “but I don’t have any connection with her. I don’t know what she’s thinking and feeling. I see the two of you exchanging vows, but it’s like watching a friend on video. I don’t know what the girl on the screen is thinking.” There was no emotion in her voice as she spoke about our wedding, and I could tell there was no feeling for me in her heart.

    A few weeks later I was in Phoenix helping Krickitt with her therapy, as usual. What wasn’t usual was that after the session, her physical therapist asked me if I’d like to help him coach a boys’ basketball game after he got off work that afternoon. Grateful for a break in the routine, I accepted Scott’s invitation.
    My time with him was nothing short of a blessing. For two hours I completely forgot about having a wife who didn’t know who I was, having a towering stack of medical bills, and being completely exhausted every day and every night of my life. I got completely caught up in the strategy of the game and trying to help Scott’s team come out on top.
    After the game the two of us went to the snack bar. We debriefed a little about his team’s performance, and then he brought me back to reality. “I know you’re getting discouraged about Krickitt,” he said. “I honestly don’t know how you keep going.”
    He knew the truth of Krickitt’s situation—and mine—so I didn’t hesitate in opening up to him. “It’s tough. Really tough,” I admitted. “Sometimes I get so excited when I think we’re about to have a breakthrough, when I think she remembers something that would link her life to mine. But then she does or says something hateful because she thinks I’m pushing her too hard in therapy—or for no reason at all—and it tears my heart out. It’s the toughest coaching job I’ve ever had.”
    “We can keep on helping Krickitt,” Scott continued. “Physically she’s making incredible progress. If she hadn’t been in such good condition because of her gymnastics, she’d never have made it this far. But your well-being is important too. Krickitt needs somebody strong, confident, and forgiving; you’ve got to be that to her, but you can’t do it by yourself. You need God, Kim.”
    “You’re right,” I said. “But it’s tough to think that way when just getting through the day often seems like an impossible task.”
    “God hasn’t forgotten you,” he said with quiet confidence. “God will never forget you. He says he will never leave you comfortless, and he won’t. You can’t use him up or wear him out. Hang on to him, Kim. He’s the most powerful force for good you have. He won’t forget you. So please don’t forget him.”
    Lying awake at the Pappas house late that night, I mulled over Scott’s advice. Maybe I’d forgotten to take my troubles to God. Perhaps in all the exhaustion and desperation I had overlooked the most powerful tool of all for Krickitt’s recovery. It wasn’t that I hadn’t prayed. I had, and often. But I knew that my focus had been on Krickitt and my desires for her and us, not on God and his desires for us. I needed to focus more on him. I needed to trust him more, because he is the one who is all-powerful, not me. So I made God a promise that I would always remember to trust in him and his amazing power.
    That evening I thought about that first night in the hospital in Albuquerque when Krickitt’s cranial pressure was increasing by the minute and we didn’t know