Happy Mother's Day,

Kiara

Before anything else — happy Mother's Day. You made me a father. You made our boys. You made our life.

I owe you an apology before I owe you anything else.

During the time we were apart, I got into another relationship. When you and I started trying again, I should have told you the truth immediately. Instead, I hid it from you. I kept that other relationship going while also trying to rebuild things with you. That was dishonest. That was selfish. That was cheating. I took away your ability to make an informed choice, and I put my own comfort above your right to the truth.

I hurt you by failing to choose you clearly, honestly, and fully. You have told me that all you ever wanted was for me to choose you, and I know my actions told you the opposite. Instead of choosing you, I chose secrecy. I chose my own comfort. I chose to avoid the consequences of the truth. I kept you in the dark while letting you believe we were rebuilding something real. That did more than break trust. It made you feel replaceable, uncertain, and disrespected. It made you question your place in my life when you should have never had to question it. You were not lacking. You were not hard to choose. I failed to choose you the way you deserved.

I'm not writing this to argue my case. I'm writing it because you deserve to hear me say it clearly: I was wrong. You didn't deserve that. I'm sorry.

Kiara holding both boys in front of a lit Christmas tree. — kiara, kassiel & kaius — christmas

Everything I didn't say enough about

The list I should have read out loud.

You were up before the sun on the days I slept through it — making Kassiel's lunch, getting him dressed for school, doing it again the next morning, and the next. Even pregnant with Kaius. Even on the mornings your body was telling you not to. You knew, without asking, which cry of Kaius's meant tired and which one meant scared. You held the whole choreography of our home in your head while I walked through the rooms it made.

I want to say it specifically, because vague gratitude isn't really gratitude — it's relief. So: thank you for every day you took care of the kids alone while I was out, and never once made me feel like I owed you for it. Thank you for giving me my sons, and for making me a father. Thank you for trying things for me you'd never have tried on your own — like trying out One Piece, even though it was so new to you. And thank you, especially, for being the reason I am becoming a better man — even when I haven't been the man you deserve.

These aren't memories. They're who you are. You make a home out of ordinary days. I want you to know I saw it. I want you to know I see it now.

The love letter

We met on an ordinary workday, but you weren't ordinary. You drove to my house in the middle of the afternoon. It was supposed to be a few hours. It is now the rest of my life. I have never once been confused about which is the better outcome. I think I knew before I had the words for it. Something in me went still — the way a room goes quiet when the right person walks in. I have been trying, ever since, to be a man worth the way you looked back at me that day.

Olin kissing Kiara's cheek; her wide-eyed look over her hand at the camera.

Our years

The texture of a life together.

A photo from one of our earliest moments together. — our first trip

— Memory one —

The first time I knew.

I told you the night before we met. I wasn't sure at all what kind of person I would fall in love with one day — and with you, it never even occurred to me to wait. The next day, when we were finally in the same room, I told you again. And again. In the moments nobody else gets to see. I didn't have to know you to know. I said it before I knew you. I've meant it every day since.

A photo from a small ordinary day that meant something.

— Memory two —

An ordinary day that wasn't.

You asleep under the teal blanket. Kaius asleep in the crib behind you. Kassiel beside you with his headphones on so he wouldn't wake either of you, deep in Minecraft.The big moments get the photographs. The small ones built the house.

A photo of Kiara with Kassiel. — kassiel & kiara

— Memory three —

You came as two.

When I fell for you I fell for him too — there was never a version of this that wasn't both of you. I remember early on, at the beach, letting him sit on my shoulders. Choosing you meant choosing him, and that was the easiest yes I've ever said.

— Memory four —

And then we became four.

I still think about the day I came home from work and you told me you were pregnant — I cried, pure joy, no other word for it. The day Kaius was born is one of my favorite days I will ever live. You asked me to sing for you while they did the C-section. So I did — "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," quietly, on the other side of the curtain, while you held it together for both of us. You did the hard part. You always do the hard part. We watched Kassiel become a big brother. We watched you become a mother again — somehow with twice as much to give. I will spend my life trying to deserve a fraction of what you gave us that day.

A photo of us together. — a night off, together

— Memory five —

Just us.

This is from your old company's Christmas party — your friends, your night. I spent the whole evening quietly trying to be worth being walked in with. I wanted you to be proud you brought me. I wanted your friends to look at you afterward and tell you they got it. I think you knew. You laughed all night like you never doubted it for a second. That's the picture I keep coming back to.

A photo of Kiara with Kaius and Kassiel.

The mother you are

Watch them. Then watch you.

The way Kaius asks you for a snack — with his extra prononciated "snack-uh". The way you and Kassiel laugh together, hollering "NEW YORK CITAY!" at each other. The way "mommy" isn't a name — it's a direction. Everything good in them was small once, and you held it.

I've watched you stay awake all night to make sure you were pumping milk for Kaius. I've watched you teach Kassiel so much about plants, animals, and nature and making him such a curious boy. You don't perform any of it. You just do it. Day after day after day.

They will grow up to be men, and the men they become will be good ones, because they were raised by you. There is no version of their lives where that isn't the most important thing about them. There is no version of mine where it isn't the most important thing about us.

Things I love about you

Present tense. On purpose.

Love, not loved. These are who you are right now, today, this morning.

“That a middle finger from you means I love you, idiot — and somehow that's the most honest sentence in our relationship.

The way you try to hold in your laugh whenever me or Kassiel trip — you can see the exact moment you're deciding whether to be concerned or absolutely lose it.

The way you always say "I didn'tuh."

“How we say I missed you by teasing each other — and how "your breath is kicking" is still, somehow, the warmest welcome home I've ever gotten.

The way the kitchen looks like a small disaster while you cook — and the plate, every time, looks like you've done this for a living.

“Your evil laugh. The unofficial soundtrack of every good story I'll ever tell about you.

“The way you play pranks on me — and the way "lunch" has, in our relationship, sometimes meant a single straight fork. Sometimes a bag of grapes. Always the unwavering confidence I'd find it funny.

What blooms near you

I could say you are like a sunflower. I'm not going to. I'll say it the harder way: you are the reason there is one in this picture at all, and the reason this Sunday looks the way it does, and every Sunday with you has since.

The man I want to be for you

Not a list of promises.

Promises are cheap on someone who has lied to you so many times. I'm not going to make a list of them and ask you to grade me. What I can tell you is what I see now that I didn't see clearly enough before — as well as who I have will continue becoming because of it.

I want to be a man who is present in the rooms he is in. A father who hears the question Kaius is actually asking. A partner who notices when you're carrying something before you have to put it down to point at it. Someone steadier than I have been. Someone you don't have to translate yourself for. Someone who will do the right thing without you asking.

I'm not asking you to decide anything today. I just want you to know I see it now. I see you. I see what we had. I see what I want to spend the rest of my life being worthy of.

Mother's Day, 2026

Happy Mother's Day, Kiara.

Today, and every day,
I love you.

— Olin

for kassiel & kaius's mom

— for Kiara Manning, the mother of my children and the only woman I will ever choose —