\u201cI\u2019m not married,\u201d she said. Not married? Then who was I, standing at my wife Krickitt\u2019s hospital bedside since our car accident, praying during the three weeks she\u2019d spent in a coma?<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, Krickitt, you are married,\u201d the rehabilitation nurse said gently. She asked again, \u201cWho is your husband?\u201d<\/p>\n
My wife stared blankly. \u201cI told you. I\u2019m not married.\u201d<\/p>\n
But we were! We\u2019d said vows before God and family, \u201ctill death do us part.\u201d This felt almost worse than death.<\/p>\n
We\u2019d met just a year earlier when I called to order jackets for the college baseball team I coached, the New Mexico Highlands University Cowboys, and a cheerful sales rep with an unusual name answered. I was smitten.<\/p>\n
I called Krickitt \u201cto follow up on my order.\u201d Eventually she gave me her home number in Anaheim, California.<\/p>\n
Krickitt was actually a nickname her great-aunt gave her at age two, back in Phoenix, Arizona, because she kept hopping around. She hopped her way to becoming an Academic All-American gymnast in college.<\/p>\n
Maybe what attracted me most was Krickitt\u2019s faith. She wasn\u2019t just a Sunday morning Christian. She saw God\u2019s plan in every aspect of her life.<\/p>\n
She told me a knee injury her senior year of college was a sign for her to quit gymnastics and help poor communities in Hungary on a church mission trip. Every day, she recorded her thoughts about God in a prayer journal.<\/p>\n
I was a Christian, but I\u2019d never had her passion. It scared me a little, fascinated me even more. I began to understand. God had brought us together.<\/p>\n
She flew out to meet me and we hugged at the airport like old friends. That night we talked until the sun came up about faith, our lives, our dreams. Krickitt gave me a gift\u2014a Bible, with my name embossed on the cover in gold lettering.<\/p>\n
\u201cHave you ever read the Book of Job?\u201d she asked, turning to the story. \u201cLife isn\u2019t fair. Everybody has times when they feel like God\u2019s just not there. But he\u2019s always there, bringing you closer to him.\u201d<\/p>\n
She read the passage, and warm waves rippled through my body, as if her faithwere flowing into me.<\/p>\n
I visited California, met her family and friends, even her pastor. That June I proposed, and we married in September, a large ceremony at Scottsdale Bible Church in Arizona.<\/p>\n
\u201cI promise to love and respect you fully,\u201d I vowed, \u201cto devote myself to your every need and desire. I promise to be the man you fell in love with. Thank you, Jesus, for the blessing you have provided me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Krickitt was driving us to her parents\u2019 house for Thanksgiving dinner that November when she swerved to avoid a slow-moving truck. Another truck hit us instead.<\/p>\n
And now my wife had forgotten me. How did that fit into God\u2019s plan? I stormed out of the recovery room and punched the wall. The pain barely registered. My heart hurt worse.<\/p>\n
Krickitt\u2019s neurophysiologist took me aside. \u201cThe injuries to the frontal lobe of Krickitt\u2019s brain caused retrograde amnesia,\u201d he explained. \u201cShe\u2019s disoriented and seems to have lost memory of ever meeting, dating or marrying you. The effects could be permanent.\u201d<\/p>\n
I returned the next day with photos. These will jog her memory<\/em>, I hoped.<\/p>\n There was no emotion looking at the photos. Only a dazed and empty stare. If she doesn\u2019t know me<\/em>, I thought, how can she love me?<\/em><\/p>\n Krickitt learned to walk again and worked with a speech therapist. I spent every day by her side. She didn\u2019t seem to mind my presence. But when I tried to push her in physical therapy, giving in to my coaching instincts, Krickitt lost it.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy are you bossing me around?\u201d she shouted. \u201cLeave me alone! I don\u2019t know you.\u201d<\/p>\n Then one afternoon Krickitt made an entry in her prayer journal. \u201cTherapy is very confusing. But I know that\u2019s the way things are. And I know the Lord has me safe in his right pocket.\u201d<\/p>\n Krickitt\u2019s faith was still strong. Her brain was damaged, but maybe her faith lay somewhere deeper, a place that couldn\u2019t be injured. Faith brought us together once. Could it do it again?<\/p>\n Krickitt moved back to her parents\u2019 house in Phoenix while she completed outpatient therapy. Familiar surroundings were supposed to help her recover. Everyone agreed I should return home and resume coaching.<\/p>\n During the week she was in therapy. I flew in to see her and help with the rehab. Krickitt seemed healthier each time. She seemed to accept what everyone said\u2014we actually were married. Still, the intimacy we\u2019d shared was missing, that interlinking of two souls.<\/p>\n I longed to feel her embrace me the way she once did. With love.<\/p>\n Finally, Krickitt was deemed healthy enough to come back to our apartment. \u201cShe is very eager to return to her husband in New Mexico,\u201d her progress report said. Did she really feel that way? I was ecstatic. My wife is coming home.<\/em><\/p>\n Yet Krickitt couldn\u2019t recognize the furniture we\u2019d picked out, the china patterns she\u2019d spent weeks deciding on. Her vision was cloudy sometimes; she tired easily. Rarely a day passed without her accidentally breaking something or us arguing.<\/p>\n Krickitt got a part-time job as an exercise technician at a hospital fitness center, but I worried about her leaving the house and getting lost.<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe you should have someone go with you to work,\u201d I suggested.<\/p>\n \u201cStop treating me like a child!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cStop acting like one!\u201d<\/p>\n My athletic director noticed how worn out I was, and suggested taking time off to see a therapist. I was incredulous. Krickitt was injured. Not me.<\/p>\n One afternoon I returned from work and Krickitt was standing in the kitchen, looking lost. I asked what was wrong. Krickitt broke down. \u201cHow did I do the wife thing? Did I cook for you? Make you lunch? I don\u2019t know what to do!\u201d What you did was love me<\/em>, I wanted to yell.<\/p>\n I lay in bed beside Krickitt that night, wanting to hold her, but afraid to. I felt like I was sleeping next to a stranger. In the darkness, Krickitt\u2019s words from what felt like long ago came to me.<\/p>\n \u201cEverybody has times when they feel like God\u2019s just not there. But he\u2019s always there, bringing you closer to him.\u201d Were Job\u2019s difficulties as baffling as this? Lord, help me to accept what happened. Help us to move forward and lean on you.<\/em><\/p>\n I resigned as coach and before long got into therapy. \u201cWhy do you think Krickitt married you in the first place?\u201d the therapist asked in my first session.<\/p>\n \u201cBecause of the way I treated her,\u201d I said. \u201cShe helped me grow in my faith, and I looked up to her for that. I loved her for that more than anything.\u201d<\/p>\n The therapist stared at me. Of course. Faith was the key to the bond between Krickitt and me that could not be destroyed. \u201cMaybe you should start over, rebuild your relationship as before,\u201d the therapist said. \u201cStart from scratch.\u201d<\/p>\n Krickitt and I went for long walks through town, shoe shopping, dress shopping, her favorite activities. We went out for pizza, bowled, took in a few ball games. All the things we did when we first courted.<\/p>\n One afternoon we went to Walmart, and like two teenagers, filled a bag of candy and ate it as we shopped. We had long talks again, about faith and the Bible. We prayed together again. We laughed more.<\/p>\n We stripped away everything except why we fell in love in the first place\u2014our shared love of God, a love that can never be forgotten.<\/p>\n \u201cI hope I\u2019m proving why you liked me the first time around,\u201d I said one night as we cuddled on the couch.<\/p>\n Krickitt turned to me. \u201cI do know now,\u201d she said. \u201cI do.\u201d She gave me a kiss. \u201cI just wish I remembered our wedding.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe can make that happen again,\u201d I said. So on Valentine\u2019s Day 1996, two and a half years after the accident, I proposed to her again.<\/p>\n A few months later, Krickitt and I renewed our vows at a rustic country chapel in front of 30 of our closest friends and family. A much smaller affair than our first wedding. But more meaningful in many ways.<\/p>\n Our love had been tested in a way we could never have imagined. Yet memories are a record of the past. Like Job, we move closer to God by going forward, to a future with new memories.<\/p>\n We forged my old wedding ring together with a new one. In a way, we\u2019d been reforged ourselves, into something greater, stronger than ever.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n