I watched the sunrise with my best friend yesterday. From the thirteenth floor, caged balcony of a Philadelphia hospital, we braved the early morning chill and watched the sun slowly bathe the buildings around us in a golden glow that made even Philadelphia look almost serene. (Almost.)

A Bryce Canyon sunrise, it was not, but it was still one of the most beautiful and one of the most stirring sights I’ve seen to date. I stood on that concrete precipice with the man who not 48 hours before was in excruciating pain and couldn’t have even thought about leaving a bed. And yet, yesterday morning he was up and walking the hallway at 4 a.m. and sparring good-naturedly with the nurses.

He’s back. My best friend is back.

We’re looking forward to his being discharged (probably tomorrow) and I couldn’t be happier that this entire experience will soon be nothing more than the faint echo of a memory. I wish I could say this memory will be as cherished as those from our cross-country trip two years ago (it won’t be), or that this endeavor was as enjoyable (it wasn’t). When we traveled the country together for three weeks, I learned a lot about us and about our relationship. It was as strong as I’d always thought and we’re better than just a husband and a wife. We’re best friends. This experience, though a polar opposite to our travels, served to reinforce that. My husband is, and always will be, my very best friend through thick and thin.

To those of you who have been following, and to the many people who reached out to me during this time, I can’t thank you enough. There are no adequate words to express how much your support means to us, how great your friendship is, and how much we love all of you in return. It is entirely true that you cannot ever realize the true extent of how much you are loved until you have to rely on the people around you. Our “people” truly shine. Thank you friends, family, and every kind stranger who has reached out. The world needs more of you.