When does ART become priceless?

Some time ago, I realized that a piece of art (paiting, sculpture, etc) doesn't amount to much until after the creator of that particular piece has bit the dust... and for sometime...

Take for instance a Monet... Even though he may have been commisioned by the King of England or France for that matter... The people of his time may have thought he was no more than a hack with a pallate and a brush... I can't speak for them but bare with me here... But, ten, twenty or fifty years after he died, he might have been the greatest painter that had ever lived... why?

Take the Beetles... Take John Lennon... Take whomever you want that died (that was famous) and ask their contemporaries and you might find conflicting opionions from back then until now...

I say all of that to say this:

I guess it is the same for immediate loved ones... My dad was a know it all, didn't have enough money to pay for his own funeral...

We under-appreciate people while they are still with us... Instead of just loving on people and telling them how much we love and appreciate them being a part of our lives we find a way to argue and minipulate...

Is it pride in us? I don't know...