Why survive?

I read an article this morning that got me thinking about why I prepare. Lets face it, we all have our ideal of what we want our lives to be. For some it's a material ideal, and others seek a more introspective goal of reaching enlightenment.
I started really thinking about what I really want as the final result of my worldly existence. What reasons do I personally feel make life worth living?
My fondest memories of growing up don't revolve around presents or gifts received as a child. I no longer remember, with some very few exceptions, what I unwrapped on most Christmas mornings of my youth. I do however still remember the anticipation as I waited for the day to arrive, waking early, and knowing I couldn't wait to open my gifts. But one particular Christmas morning stands out in my memory. As one by one my family awoke, we gathered around the tree, and just sat quietly. Then someone started singing Silent Night, and we all joined in. It was sung quietly, reverently, and for a short time we were just glad to all be together, all healthy, and life was quiet and serene.
There are very few days during my school years that stand out in my memory. But I can still picture in my youth every day my dad would take the time to give me undivided attention teaching me how to take care of animals, using hand tools to create something that had been a pile of leftover scrap lumber from some building project or other. How to set traps, use weapons, and process my take from the bounty in nature.
Now I'm not reminiscing on my mostly happy childhood to put you to sleep. I simply wish to set the stage as I get to the point of this post.
I don't want to die. I quite frankly have no intention of doing so. I've always been contrary, and with everyone trying to tell I 'have' to die sometime, it makes me more ornery and determined to prove them wrong. But why? What do I want to live for? America and the quality of all our lives has been constantly degraded by more and more regulation and violations of our rights. So what is it that keeps me getting up every morning to face yet another day?
I've given this a great deal of thought this morning. My granddaughter may be coming to stay for a week or so, and I've been trying to picture how to keep her 'entertained' while she's here. I have only the basic of TV, no computer, only the most basic of internet use on this POS phone. How am I going to keep her enthused about spending time with this broken down old man?
And I realized the answer lies in what gives MY life meaning. All of my fondest memories from half a century revolve around creation. Taking scraps that would otherwise go to waste, and using skills my dad patiently taught me, making a house for a family of birds to grow up in. Understanding the ring of life. Both in the birth of plants from the soil and animals from the womb. And so many small things. Painting a picnic table with my dad. Playing a mock up game of baseball with my brothers. Sitting in the woods, waiting for the squirrels to get used to my presence in their domain, and then NOT shooting one because they were having so much obvious fun. Then gathering wild plants for dinner so I could stay out in the woods and enjoy the LACK of solitude for anyone attuned to the life that abounds around us.
I realized this morning I'm not homesteading to survive, I homestead to live. To raise animals that will sustain my life, while enriching it so much in their births, their antics as they interact with both myself and their families. And yes, their deaths as I respectfully end their lives in order to continue my own.
If I can instill even a tenth of my reverence for the quiet life I prefer in my granddaughter, my life will not have been wasted. Even before I was disabled, (a relative term, btw) and I worked with drug addicted and sexually deviant teenagers, I used to bring in pots, soil, and packs and packs of vegetable and flower seeds and let any kid wanting to start a plant to nurture and grow. This simple act saved some of their lives. At least if the many who still call me on my birthdays can be believed when they say that was a pivotal point for them
So I'm not going to entertain my granddaughter. I'm going to let her entertain me as I try to instill in her that it's not he who dies with the most toys who wins. It's he who has had an enriched life on the enrichment of others.