Paz-Cedillos: What we remember, what we carry and what we owe

My mother has always been clear about what she wants when she dies. Don’t come to her grave crying. Bring the mariachi. Celebrate her life, the memories, the joy. And because my mother is who she is, she never misses an opportunity to remind us of something equally important: Bring me flowers while I’m still alive. I’ve been thinking about her words as our community gathers for Avenida de Altares, one of East San Jose’s most beloved cultural traditions. Día de los Muertos invites us to see death differently. Rooted in Indigenous traditions and shaped by conquest, resistance and centuries of cultural transformation, it reminds us that death is not simply an ending. It is an opportunity to remember, celebrate and reconnect with those who came before us. But this year, remembrance feels particularly heavy. Across our communities, our country and the world, we are carrying profound grief. Some losses are deeply personal. Others are unfolding before our eyes, challenging our understanding