I debated, mulled, ruminated, postulated and just plain thought about what to say today. Or more importantly, if I should say anything at all.

True, I was working as a flight attendant before and after 9/11, but not exactly during. I wasn't flying that day. In fact, I started a two-week vacation on September 10, 2001, because I had just moved into a new apartment. I missed the really scary, "Where's my family? Where are my friends? I'm stuck in Canada and they won't let me leave!" part of it.

It was like being one of J.F.K.'s secret service men in November 1964, but taking THAT day off to get your wisdom teeth taken out. It was fortuitious and pathetic all at once.

I didn't even have cable installed by the morning of the attacks and heard the news from Howard Stern as I unpacked my knick-knacks. For Stern to remain subdued and silent as the news unfolded underscored the magnitude of what transpired.

I was afraid to leave my house, and it was days before I even saw pictures of what happened. By then, my imagination had spun out of control, so seeing the carnage - horrific as it was - didn't even come close to what my mind contrived.

Ya'll know it's not my nature to get all schmoopy and emotional, so I won't break from tradition.

I didn't know anyone who died, but I do know countless people whose lives were ruined in earth-shattering, fall to your knees proportions because they did. I didn't lose my home or my job, but I know countless people who lost everything. I didn't stay afraid of death and destruction, but I know countless people who are still in physical and emotional hiding.

If you believe in it, take a minute to say a prayer for the innocent poeple who died. Then, say a bigger prayer for the people left behind who wake up every day wishing they had.