I can't help but feel disappointed on the day my daughter gives birth.
The child is a boy, and despite all the names I have suggested to her over the months! she names him Sam.
The name has nothing to do with plants, or bread for that matter, or birds, as was her husband's family's tradition.
His name is Terin. I'm told that it is based on a bird known as a tern.
His daemon is a robin.
Willow shakes her head at me in exasperation whe I broach the subject.
"People are looking to break tradition." She reminds me, "We're starting a new future. We can't do that by clinging to the past."
I long to point out that we can't just forge ahead blindly, but we have had this argument many times, and she is tired.
"Besides," she says placatingly, "His name means sunlight. It has to do with plants, if you squint."
She is teasing me now, and I cannot help but smile.
She sees this, and grins. "Would you like to hold him?" She asks.
I look at the child, my grandchild, and cannot stop my hands from trembling. "I-" I try to say no, but she pats the bed beside her and beckons me over.
"All you have to do is put your arms around him." She assures me.
I cannot argue with her. I give in, and pull myself into bed at her side, Sereven moving to follow me, and taking his post by my side.
Sam is heavy and warm in my arms, and sleeps soundly even when I shift to better hold his weight.
Already, I can see that he will inherit his mother's dark hair.
Inexplicably, tears burn at my eyes.
Terin's family has black hair.
There is no chance that any of my mother' straits will be passed down.
They died with my sister.
But I wipe the tears away before they can fall, and do not miss the look of concern on my daughter's face.
"Do you want me to hold him?" She asks gently.
I shake my head. "No," I say, "It's fine." I suddenly realize the only comment I have made about the child is his name. "He's beautiful." I say sincerely.
His hair may be dark, and his skin light because of Terin, but his eyes are a familiar, comforting grey when he opens them to look up at me.
I smile again. "Sunshine child." I say softly. "Sam. Welcome to the family."
His daemon is in the form of a small black kitten, and I hand him gently back to his mother as Sereven and I go to let the men back into the room.
Sunshine child.
Though it is breaking tradition, it is a beautiful name.
I'm sure my mother will adore it. She has always loved the sun, and has never cared much for tradition.
I manage one more smile in Willow's direction before I have to leave the room, the crowd of people becoming too much.
I do to go far, though. Sereven and I sit outside the front door in our old poses. It's not the roof, but these days, it doesn't have to be.
I sit in the cold winter's air, and smile at the light that reflects off the snow.