How much is my life worth? Does it depend on what I’ve accomplished; possibly if the extent was grand enough. How about how long people remember me; not when we also remember people for the horrible things they did. Names are passed down through generations, like Henry VIII, but I know nothing about him, except his name, and what about the first Henry; not a clue. I have pictures of my grandfathers, only two generations back, but I know very little about them because they died when I was quite young. My mother’s mother lived into her 90’s so I remember her and a few things about her life. I have a crocheted table cloth made by my husband’s great-great-grandmother so I have evidence she existed, but no more than that. It’s old-fashion, so who knows how many more tables will benefit from its beauty. My conclusion is my life is only worth what I make of it right now. Every moment is spent in one way or another; in joy or sadness, love or hate, calm or angry, thoughtful or self-centered, forgiving or bitter. Each a choice impacting not only my life and my worth, but those around me.