No one needs to tell a parent that time flies. Downtown San Jose stays pretty much the same. The pigeons; those stone seats by the National Theater; the people selling bags of corn for a few pesos under the trees. And my child? Today Coco looks like she was replaced by aliens with a taller version of herself and a smaller version of me.

Those little red slippers? Her first pair of velvet red slipper I found at a used clothes store. She wore them so often she scraped the toes off so I had to color them in with magic marker. Now she won’t wear dresses. But she’s still got those chubby cheeks and squints the same in the bright sun.

Every day I’m torn between moving ahead and holding on. But I can’t stop the earth from spinning. Though goodness knows I’ve tried.