I came across this story, and actually did the research. It's both remarkable and true!
Tim Torres
Express-Way / Endtime Generation Ministries
www.endtimegeneration.com
_________
Their spirits were soaring as the newlywed couple, Kim and
Krickitt Carpenter, headed toward Phoenix to spend Thanksgiving with her family.
They were driving their new Ford Escort and chatting about the Cowboys, the
university baseball team that Kim coached back in their hometown of Las Vegas. With them was
Milan Rasic, Kim's assistant coach.
It was pitch dark at 6:30 p.m., and by then Krickitt had
taken the wheel. Kim, who had a head cold, had gotten in the back seat of the
car so he could lie down. Six miles west of Gallup, N.M.,
on Interstate 40, a flatbed truck traveling ahead of them at about 30 miles per
hour was obscured by exhaust smoke. Kim woke to Krickitt's scream of terror and
Milan's shout,
“Watch out!”
Krickitt hit the brakes and attempted to swerve left, but
collided with the flatbed. A pickup truck that had been behind them slammed into
the driver's side of the Escort. The little car flew through the air and came
down on its roof, skidding more than 100 feet before it
stopped.
Kim was squeezed against the roof of the car, which was
underneath him. He couldn't move his legs, and the pain in his back was
excruciating.
“Krickett!” Kim screamed. There was no answer. He couldn't
see that Krickett was suspended above him, held by the seat belt and the
steering wheel, her head swelling grotesquely as fluid flooded her
brain.
Only ten weeks after their marriage, Kim listened in shock
as a doctor told him that Krickitt was in a coma, completely unresponsive. There
was possible brain damage. She might die. She had a plastic hose in her mouth
and a device stuck in her head to measure intracranial pressure. Plastic bags
hung on metal stands, all draining fluids down clear tubing into her arms. This
can't be Krickitt! Kim thought as he felt the room sway and go
dark.
Krickitt gradually came out of her coma, and three weeks
after the accident it was time for a professional assessment of her mental
abilities. Kim stood by anxiously as a therapist asked Krickitt
questions.
“Where does the sun rise?” the therapist
said.
Answer, Babe, Kim urged silently. Show us you're getting
well. Krickitt looked puzzled, then satisfied. “North,” she said with
certainty.
“Who is the President?”
“Nixon.”
“Where do you live?”
“Phoenix.”
Phoenix was where she had lived before she was
married. Kim was encouraged. Yes, Babe! We're going home soon, and everything
will be all right.
“Who are you married to?” Krickitt's blue eyes drifted
around the room. Her voice was flat, emotionless, and her words stabbed at Kim's
heart: “I'm not married.”
Stunned, Kim backed out of the room. In the hallway he wept
openly, slamming his fist against a wall. God, help me! Help Krickitt and
me.
As Krickitt became more responsive, it gradually became
clear that she had lost all memory of the year before the accident. She didn't
remember their courtship, wedding or honeymoon, or their short time together as
husband and wife. Kim Carpenter was a complete stranger to the woman he had
fallen madly, hopelessly in love with.
On March 12,
1994, Kim and Krickitt went to their apartment for an “orientation” visit. In
the small living room, Krickitt picked up an 11 by 14 inch photo and studied it
with a quizzical look. It was their wedding picture, but it didn't mean a thing
to her.
In
the fall of 1995, Kim went to a professional counselor. During one session the
therapist asked him, “What made Krickitt fall in love with you?” At first he
gave the counselor a glib answer, describing himself as “funny, clever,
handsome.” But then he took the question seriously. What made Krickitt fall in
love with him?
He thought of all the love and affection he'd shown her
during their courtship. He was her sweetheart. Then he considered how he had
acted since her injury. He was more like a parent or coach. Finally it struck
him: Start over! Win her back!
“Would you like to go to a movie tonight? We could get some
pizza afterward.” It felt awkward courting Krickitt again, but Kim made “date
night” a part of their weekly routine.
They tried golfing together, but they often didn't make it
past the second hole. Kim had to learn patience, to let go and not criticize.
They knew they were on the right track when they could laugh and say, “Wow! We
made it to the fourth hole without fighting!”
Krickitt began
to notice how compassionate and generous Kim was. Gradually, she felt herself
“growing into love,” which she described as “sort of like falling in love, only
better.”
On
Valentine's Day 1996, Kim once again went down to one knee, and with a bouquet
of flowers in one hand, asked Krickitt to be his bride.
“People think we're getting married a second time to make my
memory come back,” Krickitt would say. “But I have accepted [the fact that] part
of my life is erased.”
The reason for the wedding ceremony, Krickitt adds, was
because “every woman should have that moment to remember.”
On May 25, 1996, Krickitt Carpenter held out her hand to
Kim. “I thank you for being true to your original vows,” she said, “and I pray
that I might be the wife you fell in love with.”
They gave each other their original wedding rings. Then,
unaware of the other's plan, each brought a second ring to commemorate this
second vow of love.
Kim and Krickitt emerged from the chapel, posed for photos
and then made their way through a crowd of family and friends. It was the
beginning of a new life for them, a moment that, now, Krickitt could remember
and treasure forever.
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