Where were you on 9-11? It's the question that those of us who were born by that time will ask for the rest of our lives.

I was sleeping soundly in my college dorm room bed and perturbed when my mother woke me with her phone call of concern. I was in Pennsylvania, and couldn't understand right away why she was so concerned. After I turned on the TV, I immediately understood. Once I assured her I was OK and that Pittsburgh was far away from where the United Flight 93 plane went down in Pennsylvania, she was relieved.

That day still feels like a dream or like watching a movie because the images seemed so surreal, but they weren't. The smoke and ash and horror in people's faces were every bit real. The lives of those impacted will forever be changed.

I am a million times removed from the events of that day compared to many. I have friends who lost friends and a friend who escaped death after running down countless flights of stairs. His story leaves you speechless. I hear the stories and try to empathize, and feel at a total loss.

As we see the images all over again on this tenth anniversary of the attacks on New York City, I stop to pray for the lost souls and the families who survived and have been grieving all these years. I pray and reflect in gratitude as this day does put our own problems into perspective. I was even a bit awestruck when it dawned on me about the symbolism of this anniversary being on a Sunday. It's strengthening. I commend the courage of everyone touched by the events and the way this nation pulled together, united, as it should be.

May the memories of the lost souls be eternal, and may we go forth in peace.