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

pocket and I’m very safe there. I love to see Him really work in my life, and I know He’ll use me in His due time.”
    My wife may have been confused, she may have lost some of her memory, but she still knew her God. She knew he was in control, and she knew he was working in her life and intended to use her to do his work in his time.
    Not long after that I was sitting with Krickitt, who was talking with a therapist that was probing carefully for what Krickitt could remember. Her “I love you” had been the first sign that things were slowly moving toward normal. Her words about God were another sign. Now I was ready for even bigger proof. I wanted my wife back.
    “Krickitt,” her therapist began in a soothing voice, “do you know where you are?”
    Krickitt thought for a minute before replying, “Phoenix.”
    “That’s right, Krickitt. Do you know what year it is?”
    “1965.”
    She was born in 1969 , I thought, somewhat frantically. That’s just a little setback—nothing to really worry about, I tried to convince myself
    “Who’s the president, Krickitt?”
    “Nixon.”
    Well, he was the president when she was born, I justified.
    “Krickitt, what’s your mother’s name?” the therapist continued.
    “Mary,” she said with no hesitation . . . and no expression. Now we’re getting somewhere. Thank you, God!
    “Excellent, Krickitt. And what’s your father’s name?”
    “Gus.”
    “That’s right. Very good.” He paused before continuing, “Krickitt, who’s your husband?”
    Krickitt looked at me with eyes void of expression. She looked back at the therapist without answering.
    “Krickitt, who’s your husband?”
    Krickitt looked at me again and back at the therapist. I was sure everyone could hear my heart thudding as I waited for my wife’s answer in silence and desperation.
    “I’m not married.”
    No! God, please!
    The therapist tried again, “No, Krickitt, you are married. Who’s your husband?”
    She wrinkled her brow. “Todd?” she questioned.
    Her old boyfriend from California? Help her remember, God!
    “Krickitt, please think. Who’s your husband?
    “I told you. I’m not married.”

Krickitt and Kristi Pinnick were gymnasts together at Desert Devils Gymnastics Club. Krickitt then went on and received a full gymnastics scholarship at Cal State Fullerton.

    My official photo as Coach Kim Carpenter of the Highlands Cowboys. Krickitt said the uniform made me look like a little boy.

    With help from her roommates, I sneaked up and surprised Krickitt under this balcony to propose.

    Our engagement photo. The matching outfits recall our first meeting—on the phone discussing an order for athletic jackets.

    Mr. and Mrs. Kim J. Carpenter, September 18, 1993.

    The wedding party. Some of these friends and family would soon play a part in our lives we couldn’t possibly have imagined.

    Honeymooning on Maui the first time. Krickitt will never remember it; I will never forget it.

    What was left of our car after a collision the night before Thanksgiving 1993. This angle shows the crushed driver compartment and the sunroof that sliced up my back.

    This angle shows where rescue workers cut the roof and door apart to get Krickitt out. The car landed upside down, and she hung suspended by her seat belt for more than half an hour.

    Krickitt at Barrow Neurological Center in Phoenix, Christmas 1993. The fact she was alive was a miracle; at this point we didn’t know what level of recovery to expect.

    Krickitt, her sister-in-law Gretchen, and brother Jamey at Barrow, January 1994. Jamey and Gretchen were strong spiritual supporters during Krickitt’s rehab.

    Krickitt with her mom, Mary Pappas, about two months after the accident. Krickitt had graduated to outpatient status.

    Krickitt and me in the courtyard at Barrow with my parents, Danny and Mo Carpenter.

    Scott Madsen, Krickitt’s “physical terrorist,” became a real friend who helped me keep my perspective during the