As he lies dying in a New Mexico hospital, watching the January 6th insurrection unfold on television, his mind cycles through the moments that shaped him: learning about the My Lai massacre that radicalized a generation, discovering the history of La Matanza that his family had lived through, riding a Greyhound bus to Washington D.C. in 1969 with a dog-eared copy of an underground antiwar newspaper. His family's story is America's story told from the bottom up-Bracero Program workers pushed from state to state, organizers beaten and abandoned, children born into poverty and taught to be grateful for the chance to work themselves to death in someone else's fields. But Ramos-Alejo chose a different path: he went to Washington not as a protester but as a senator, believing he could change the system from within. Now, as his longtime aide abandons him and his body shuts down, he's forced to confront the possibility that his entire political career was just another form of extraction-taking the moral authority of his family's suffering and spending it to legitimize the very institutions that caused that suffering. A devastating portrait of political compromise and the seductive power of proximity to power, "El Tiempo Cura las Heridas" asks whether time really does heal all wounds, or whether some wounds are too deep, too systematic, and too profitable to ever truly heal.