Grief lessens, it dulls, but it never completely goes away. Not after six years, at least. Whenever I relive it, it hurts less than the time before. It's assimilated into me, and it's always a part of me, just like my sister's short life will always be a part of me. I don't get metaphysical about death, not even hers. My life is fuller for having had her in it, and it's emptier with her gone, but at least for 13 years she was there, and that's what I think is important and that's what enriched my life. So this is the anniversary of my sister's death, but the pain isn't as fresh or as sharp as in years past. The joy of her life is what comes to mind more than the pain of her loss. And honestly, somehow, it makes me feel like more of a person.