Ally Karsyn

Jeanne Emmons penned her first poem in kindergarten. Hand-drawn, Crayon colored flowers rimmed the edge of the page. Written to her mother, who kept the note, it said, “You are pretty. Deep, deep pretty.”

She’s been crafting lilting lines of life’s musings ever since. Her fourth collection of poetry, called “The Red Canoe,” is due to come out in August.

“I never really thought I would be a poet, a published poet,” she said. “I just thought I was writing for myself.”

My husband, Jeff, and I have been married 32 years. We raised two daughters and a son. But for two years, I wasn’t sure how to answer the question, “How many children do you have?” You see, our son Sgt. Dillion Naslund completed suicide on December 10, 2012. He was 25.

After winning her first poetry contest 26 years ago, Jeanne Emmons received the prize money and decided, “I’m going to use this $500 for something life-changing.”

When my dad was in his 40s, he went through what some might call a midlife crisis, but I like to call it his second childhood. He did what men do. He bought a motorcycle. I loved it. I’d jump on the back, wrap my arms around his waist and cruise the countryside, the wind whipping my face.

One Sunday afternoon, he drove off on that motorcycle to see some friends north of Sioux City, out on old Highway 7, now K22. He never made it.

What I’m doing doesn’t look like adulting.

GhostCat formed almost three years ago as a trio with Alex Erwin on vocals and guitar, Cody Garwood on bass and Steve Skog on drums, who all worked together at the Sioux City Conservatory of Music.

In 2014, the Sioux City-based indie-rock band released its first album, a seven-song EP, called “Useless Fairytales.” The band has evolved and matured in the last few years. Their new full-length album, called “How Infinite the Sky," reflects a more optimistic outlook on life.

I’m putting my socks and stirrups on when the phone rings. My dad and I had just come inside from the backyard. We’d been throwing baseball to warm up for my game later that day. This is our ritual. I’m a freshman in high school. 

The phone rings several times before I can reach it.

“Hi, is your dad there?” a woman asks.

I tell her to hold on. At the end of the hallway, my parents’ door is closed. I knock.

“Dad, telephone,” I holler through the door.

Last year, Alex Erwin, the frontman for GhostCat, demonstrated his commitment to his craft during a Battle of the Bands competition. He appeared on stage, sitting down to play his guitar, with his right leg wrapped in a walking boot and propped up on a wicker ottoman.

While the indie-rock band has won five of Battle of the Bands competitions, they're opting out of those events to focus on other musical endeavors.

Angst and young rockers go together like macaroni and cheese.

But instead of enjoying the gooey deliciousness, the musicians are smothered in sticky foreboding feelings of being fed up and betrayed by the world, figuring out life is harder than they thought it would be.

After interviewing an 11-year-old boy, who has his eyes set on bringing home the gold from the 2020 Paralympics Games, a scary thought crossed my mind: I actually, just maybe, might want kids.