Welcoming a Glen Arbor Son to the family

Leo Anders Wheeler. On the morning you were born (to Sarah Eichberger and Glen Arbor Sun editor Jacob Wheeler—Tuesday, October 22, 2019, in Traverse City, Michigan—gale force winds blew waves 13 feet high on the big lake. You entered the world during the year of high water; the engorged summer of flooding beaches, rivers and fish shanty towns, followed by the autumn of freshwater tsunamis washing away dune cliffs. In your haste to join the flow, you pushed the amniotic fluid to break 10 days early and emerged from the womb with a breath of air so mighty that you blew a small leak in your lung sacks and had to be watched by kind nurses who connected you to tubes and machines for the first few days of your life. A fighter you are. A little lion. You ball up fists and thrust your long, skinny arms into the air as if you are making a statement, or conducting an orchestra. Leo the lion-hearted. Your middle name Anders signifies strength in the lands of the fjords—Scandinavia across the ocean, from where your Dad hales. Because you battled to get here. Your legs must be long, your big sister Nina concluded a few weeks ago, because we’ve been watching you on the moon at night, growing closer and closer with each waxing phase. “The baby has really long legs,” Nina said, “Because it can step all the way from the moon into Momma’s belly.” Before sleep, your sister and I have been reading the Narnia chronicles, whose hero Aslan is the brave and noble lion, a force for good. Because we need brave and noble lions today in this ailing nation, on this upset planet, in this time of high water. Welcome, Leo.