{"id":1965,"date":"2026-11-01T01:06:05","date_gmt":"2026-11-01T01:06:05","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/storylifedaily.com\/?p=1965"},"modified":"2026-11-01T01:06:05","modified_gmt":"2026-11-01T01:06:05","slug":"i-was-34-and-paying-off-the-last-6200-of-my-student-loans-when-my-grandfathers-retiring-financial-advisor-called-about-a-75000-college-fund-i-never-knew-existed-and-after-twelve-years-of","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/storylifedaily.com\/?p=1965","title":{"rendered":"I Was 34 and Paying Off the Last $6,200 of My Student Loans When My Grandfather\u2019s Retiring Financial Advisor Called About a $75,000 College Fund I Never Knew Existed, and After Twelve Years of Working Two Jobs I Drove to My Parents\u2019 House and Laid the Proof in Front of the One Who Signed"},"content":{"rendered":"

PART 1 \u2014 The Last Payment<\/h2>\n

I was thirty-four and paying off the last $6,200<\/mark> of my student loans when my grandfather\u2019s old financial advisor called.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

It was a Tuesday evening in April. I was at my kitchen table in Indianapolis with my laptop open to the loan servicer\u2019s website, planning a celebration. Twelve years of payments. Two jobs through most of my twenties. One more summer of overtime at the hospital billing office and I\u2019d be free.<\/p>\n

My phone buzzed with a number from Fort Wayne I didn\u2019t recognize.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs this Rachel Novak?\u201d an older man asked. \u201cLeonard Brandt\u2019s granddaughter?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d I said. My grandfather had been gone for eighteen years.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy name is Norman Fisk. I was your grandfather\u2019s financial advisor for almost thirty years. I\u2019m retiring next month and closing out my files. I\u2019m calling a few of my old clients\u2019 families to make sure everything was handled properly.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay,\u201d I said, confused.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u201cI just wanted to make sure you received everything from the education account,\u201d he said. \u201cYour grandfather was very particular about it.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

I had no idea what he meant.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat education account?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

There was a long silence on the line. When Mr. Fisk spoke again, his voice was careful in the way people\u2019s voices get when they realize they\u2019ve stepped on something.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour grandfather opened a college fund for you in 1998,\u201d he said. \u201cA custodial account under Indiana\u2019s Uniform Transfers to Minors Act. The year you turned six. He added to it every Christmas until he passed in 2008.<\/mark>\u201d<\/p>\n

I put my hand flat on the table.<\/p>\n

\u201cBy the time you turned eighteen,\u201d Mr. Fisk said, \u201cit held a little over seventy-five thousand dollars.\u201d<\/p>\n

Seventy-five thousand dollars. Enough to cover all four years at the state university, with money left over.<\/mark><\/p>\n

I looked at my laptop screen. $6,200 remaining. Twelve years. Two jobs. Ramen noodles and a used Honda with no air conditioning. A wedding I postponed twice. A down payment I never managed to save.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u201cMr. Fisk,\u201d I said, \u201cI never received a single dollar.\u201d<\/p>\n

PART 2 \u2014 No College Money<\/h2>\n

Instead of that fund, here is what I got.<\/p>\n

In my senior year at Carmel High School, I was accepted to Indiana University\u2019s Kelley School of Business. I was so excited I ran down the hallway screaming. That night at dinner, I showed my parents the acceptance letter.<\/p>\n

My father, Rick, read it and smiled, but his smile looked tired. My mother, Cheryl, read it and got up from the table to wash a pan that was already clean.<\/p>\n

\u201cRach,\u201d my father said gently, \u201cwe\u2019re so proud of you. But you know we just don\u2019t have college money.\u201d<\/p>\n

I knew. They had told me for years. My father\u2019s contracting business had struggled through the recession. We\u2019d cut back on everything. No vacations. Store-brand cereal. My mother picked up extra shifts at the dental office.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

\u201cWhat about Grandpa?\u201d I asked. \u201cHe always said he\u2019d help with college.\u201d<\/p>\n

My mother turned around from the sink. Her face was strange, tight.<\/p>\n

\u201cGrandpa left everything to the church, honey,\u201d she said. \u201cYou know how religious he was.\u201d<\/mark><\/p>\n

I did know. Grandpa Leonard went to Mass every morning of his life. It made sense. I was disappointed, but I didn\u2019t question it. Why would I?<\/p>\n

So I went to IU anyway. I took out $46,000 in student loans<\/mark>. I worked at a campus coffee shop during the week and a grocery store on weekends. I graduated with a 3.4 GPA and a pile of debt. After college, I took a job in hospital billing because it paid well and offered overtime. I worked evenings at a call center for six more years to pay my loans down faster.<\/p>\n

I never resented my parents. I thought they had done their best with what they had.<\/p>\n

Now, sitting at my kitchen table, I asked Mr. Fisk the question that I was suddenly terrified to hear answered.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happened to the account?\u201d<\/p>\n

He was quiet. Then he said, \u201cRachel, my records show the account was withdrawn in full in 2010.<\/mark> The signature on the withdrawal belonged to the custodian your grandfather named.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho was the custodian?\u201d<\/p>\n

He paused. \u201cI think you already know.\u201d<\/p>\n

PART 3 \u2014 The Custodian<\/h2>\n

I did know. My grandfather Leonard was my mother\u2019s father. There was only one person he would have trusted to manage money for me.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy mother,\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d Mr. Fisk said quietly. \u201cCheryl Novak.\u201d<\/p>\n

I thanked him. I don\u2019t remember what else I said. I remember that after I hung up, I sat at my kitchen table until it got dark and I didn\u2019t turn on a light.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The next morning, Mr. Fisk emailed me copies of everything he still had. The original account application from 1998, signed by my grandfather in his tidy engineer\u2019s handwriting. Yearly statements showing every Christmas deposit: $3,000, $5,000, $7,500, depending on the year. The account balance in July 2010: $75,412.<\/mark><\/p>\n

And the withdrawal request from August 2010, signed by my mother.<\/p>\n

There was also something I didn\u2019t expect. A letter, attached to the account file, written by my grandfather in 2007, the year before he died.<\/p>\n

\u201cNorm, if anything happens to me, please make sure Cheryl uses this money only for Rachel\u2019s education, as the law requires. Rachel is smart and stubborn like her grandmother. She\u2019s going to be somebody. Make sure she gets her chance.<\/mark> \u2013 Leonard.\u201d<\/p>\n

I read that letter until I couldn\u2019t see the words anymore.<\/p>\n

My grandfather had saved for me every Christmas for ten years. He had written a letter to protect it. And my mother had taken it, then looked me in the eye at dinner and told me he left everything to the church.<\/p>\n

I called my best friend, Alyssa, and told her. She was silent for a long time.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you going to do?\u201d she finally asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d I said. \u201cPart of me wants to call a lawyer. Part of me wants to scream at her. And part of me wants to pretend I never answered that phone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can\u2019t pretend,\u201d Alyssa said gently. \u201cYou already know.\u201d<\/p>\n

She was right.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t call my parents. I didn\u2019t text. I needed to see my mother\u2019s face when she saw the papers.<\/p>\n

PART 4 \u2014 Sunday Afternoon<\/h2>\n

I drove to their house in Carmel on Sunday afternoon with the advisor\u2019s letter in my purse. It was a small split-level on a quiet street, the same house I grew up in.<\/p>\n

My father was watching football in the den in his recliner. The Colts were losing. My mother was in the kitchen, making a pot roast. The whole house smelled like onions and Sunday dinners from my childhood.<\/p>\n

\u201cRachel!\u201d my mother said, surprised. \u201cWe didn\u2019t know you were coming. Are you staying for dinner?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know yet,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

She heard something in my voice. She set down her wooden spoon.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

I didn\u2019t say anything else. I took the papers out of my purse. The account statements. The withdrawal slip. Grandpa\u2019s letter. I walked past my father in the den, into the kitchen, and laid them on the counter in front of my mother.<\/p>\n

I set the letter down in front of the one who signed it.<\/mark><\/p>\n

My mother looked at the first page. I watched the color drain from her face. Her hand went to the edge of the counter to steady herself.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere did you get this?\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n

\u201cNorman Fisk called me,\u201d I said. \u201cGrandpa\u2019s advisor. He\u2019s retiring. He wanted to make sure I got my college fund.\u201d<\/p>\n

In the den, the football game was still playing. My father must have heard something in our voices, because the TV went silent.<\/p>\n

He came to the kitchen doorway in his socks. \u201cWhat\u2019s going on?\u201d<\/p>\n

My mother didn\u2019t answer. She was staring at the counter.<\/p>\n

\u201cDad,\u201d I said, \u201cdid you know Grandpa left me a college fund? Seventy-five thousand dollars?<\/mark>\u201d<\/p>\n

My father looked confused. Then he looked at my mother. Then at the papers.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d he said. \u201cCheryl, what is she talking about?\u201d<\/p>\n

That was when I realized my father didn\u2019t know either.<\/p>\n

PART 5 \u2014 2010<\/h2>\n

My mother sat down at the kitchen table. My father pulled out a chair beside her. I stayed standing. I couldn\u2019t sit.<\/p>\n

For a long time, nobody said anything. The pot roast simmered on the stove.<\/p>\n

Then my mother began to talk, in a flat, tired voice I had never heard from her before.<\/p>\n

\u201cIn the spring of 2010,\u201d she said, \u201cthe IRS sent a letter. Rick, you\u2019d fallen behind on payroll taxes for the business during the recession. You didn\u2019t tell me. I found the letter in the truck.\u201d<\/p>\n

My father went pale. \u201cI was going to fix it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey were going to put a lien on the house,\u201d my mother said. \u201cWe owed almost seventy thousand dollars with penalties and interest.<\/mark> They said they could take the house. They said they could levy our bank accounts.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou were so ashamed, Rick,\u201d she said to my father, without looking at him. \u201cYou weren\u2019t sleeping. You were talking about walking away from the business. I was so scared.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

\u201cSo you took Rachel\u2019s money,\u201d my father said slowly.<\/p>\n

My mother nodded. Tears were running down her face now.<\/p>\n

\u201cI was the custodian. I could sign. I told myself it was a loan. I told myself we\u2019d pay it back before she graduated, and she\u2019d never know. I told the IRS the payment came from a family loan. I told you it was a loan from my cousin in Ohio.\u201d<\/p>\n

My father put his hands over his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd then Rachel got into IU,\u201d my mother whispered. \u201cAnd there was nothing left. And I couldn\u2019t tell her. I couldn\u2019t look at my daughter and tell her I spent her future to save our house.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo you lied,\u201d I said. My voice was shaking. \u201cYou told me Grandpa left everything to the church.\u201d<\/mark><\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d she said. \u201cBecause it was easier than the truth. And every year it got harder to say.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMom, I worked two jobs for twelve years. I postponed my wedding twice. I\u2019ve never been able to save for a house. Every month I sent the loan company a payment, I thought about how you and Dad just didn\u2019t have it. I never once blamed you.\u201d<\/p>\n

My mother broke down completely. My father sat frozen beside her.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know,\u201d she sobbed. \u201cI know. That\u2019s what made it unbearable.\u201d<\/p>\n

PART 6 \u2014 Grandpa\u2019s Letter<\/h2>\n

I left without staying for dinner. I sat in my car in their driveway for twenty minutes before I could drive.<\/p>\n

My father called me that night. His voice was hoarse.<\/p>\n

\u201cRach, I didn\u2019t know,\u201d he said. \u201cI swear to you I didn\u2019t know. I thought her cousin loaned us the money. I paid her cousin back two hundred dollars a month for five years. Turns out I was paying it into our own savings account.<\/mark> Cheryl told me she was sending it to him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo where did that money go?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019m going to find out.\u201d<\/p>\n

I believed him. My father has many faults. He\u2019s proud and stubborn and terrible with paperwork. But he has never been able to lie to me. His ears turn red.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Over the next week, I didn\u2019t talk to my mother. She called eleven times. I didn\u2019t answer. She texted long paragraphs at two in the morning. I didn\u2019t read them.<\/p>\n

Instead, I made an appointment with an attorney named Patricia Hollings, who handled family financial disputes in Indianapolis. I wanted to understand my options, even if I wasn\u2019t sure I\u2019d use them.<\/p>\n

She read the documents carefully.<\/p>\n

\u201cUnder Indiana\u2019s Uniform Transfers to Minors Act, the money in that account legally belonged to you,\u201d she said. \u201cThe custodian could only use it for your benefit.<\/mark> Using it to pay her husband\u2019s business tax debt was a breach of her duty as custodian. You could potentially sue to recover it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEven now? Fourteen years later?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere may be statute of limitations issues,\u201d she said. \u201cDiscovery rules can sometimes help when the fraud was hidden, which it clearly was. It\u2019s not a simple case. But it\u2019s not an impossible one either.\u201d<\/p>\n

She paused. \u201cRachel, I\u2019ll be honest with you. In my experience, lawsuits between parents and children almost never make anyone feel better. Even when they win. Sometimes a well-drafted repayment agreement does more good than a judgment.\u201d<\/p>\n

On my way home, I reread Grandpa\u2019s letter for the hundredth time.<\/p>\n

\u201cRachel is smart and stubborn like her grandmother. She\u2019s going to be somebody. Make sure she gets her chance.\u201d<\/mark><\/p>\n

I thought about what Grandpa would want. I knew he\u2019d be furious with my mother. But I also knew he\u2019d never want his daughter and his granddaughter to meet in a courtroom.<\/p>\n

PART 7 \u2014 What My Father Found<\/h2>\n

Ten days after that Sunday, my father called again.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan you come over?\u201d he asked. \u201cNot for your mother. For me. I found something.\u201d<\/p>\n

When I arrived, he was sitting alone at the kitchen table with a manila folder and his reading glasses. My mother was upstairs. He said she\u2019d agreed to stay up there until he called her.<\/p>\n

He opened the folder. Inside were bank statements from a savings account at the credit union, opened in 2011, in my mother\u2019s name only.<\/p>\n

\u201cThese are the \u2018cousin\u2019 payments,\u201d he said. \u201cTwo hundred dollars a month, every month, for five years. And then after that, she kept going on her own. Every month. Even after I stopped.<\/mark>\u201d<\/p>\n

He turned to the most recent statement.<\/p>\n

The balance was $41,318.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

I stared at it. \u201cShe saved it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEvery penny she could,\u201d my father said. \u201cShe took extra shifts at the dental office for years. I thought she was saving for our retirement. She was saving for you. Look at the account name.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked. It was a nickname on the account, the kind credit unions let you choose. It said, \u201cRachel \u2013 Owed.\u201d<\/mark><\/p>\n

\u201cShe was going to give it to you,\u201d my father said. \u201cShe told me last night. She was waiting until she had the whole seventy-five thousand. She thought if she could pay it all back before you found out, she could tell you the truth and it wouldn\u2019t hurt as much.\u201d<\/p>\n

I sat down hard in the kitchen chair.<\/p>\n

\u201cDad,\u201d I said, \u201cthat would have taken her another ten years.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know,\u201d he said quietly. \u201cShe\u2019s sixty-one. She knew that too.\u201d<\/p>\n

We sat there in silence. The kitchen clock ticked over the stove, the same clock that had been there since I was a kid.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not asking you to forgive her,\u201d my father said. \u201cThat\u2019s your choice. I don\u2019t know if I\u2019ve forgiven her yet either. But I\u2019m asking you to let her try to make it right.\u201d<\/p>\n

PART 8 \u2014 Making It Right<\/h2>\n

Two weeks later, the four of us met at Patricia Hollings\u2019s office. My mother, my father, my fianc\u00e9 Daniel, and me. Patricia had drafted an agreement at my request.<\/p>\n

My mother hadn\u2019t been sleeping. She looked ten years older. She sat across from me with her hands folded tightly and didn\u2019t make excuses.<\/p>\n

\u201cRachel,\u201d she said, \u201cI don\u2019t expect you to forgive me. I just want you to know that every single day for fourteen years, I thought about what I did.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know, Mom,\u201d I said. \u201cDad showed me the account.\u201d<\/p>\n

She looked down. \u201cI wanted to fix it before you ever knew.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s the problem,\u201d I said gently. \u201cYou keep trying to fix things by hiding them. That\u2019s how this whole thing started.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The agreement was simple. My parents would pay me back the full $75,412, plus a modest amount of interest. The $41,318 in the \u201cRachel \u2013 Owed\u201d account would be transferred to me immediately. That alone would pay off my last $6,200 in loans and leave $35,000.<\/mark> The rest, about $40,000, would come from my parents taking a home equity line on their house, which was now fully paid off.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour grandfather saved for you,\u201d my father said. \u201cOur house should pay you back. That\u2019s only right.\u201d<\/p>\n

My mother signed first. Her hand was shaking. My father signed next.<\/p>\n

Then I did something I hadn\u2019t planned. I took a pen and added one handwritten line to the bottom of the agreement, above my signature.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo more secrets about money in this family. Ever.\u201d<\/mark><\/p>\n

My mother read it and began to cry. \u201cYes,\u201d she whispered. \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

I signed. Then I stood up, walked around the table, and hugged my mother for the first time in a month. She held on to me like she was drowning.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m so sorry,\u201d she kept saying into my shoulder. \u201cI\u2019m so sorry, baby.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know, Mom,\u201d I said. \u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n

PART 9 \u2014 The Chance Grandpa Wanted<\/h2>\n

I paid off my student loans the next day. I sat at my kitchen table and clicked the button on the loan servicer\u2019s website. The balance went to $0.00. A little cartoon of confetti appeared on the screen.<\/p>\n

I cried harder than I expected to. Twelve years.<\/p>\n

Then I called Norman Fisk to thank him.<\/p>\n

\u201cRachel,\u201d he said, \u201cyour grandfather would be very proud of you. Not just for paying off those loans. For how you handled your mother.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know if I handled it well,\u201d I said. \u201cI wanted to sue her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut you didn\u2019t,\u201d he said. \u201cLeonard always said the hardest kind of strength is knowing when not to use it.\u201d<\/mark><\/p>\n

Daniel and I got married that fall. Finally. The third time we set a date. We had a small ceremony in the garden of a bed and breakfast in Brown County.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

My mother helped plan it. She didn\u2019t try to pay for anything, because I asked her not to. Instead, she made the centerpieces by hand, little mason jars filled with wildflowers from her backyard. She spent three weeks on them.<\/p>\n

At the reception, my father gave a toast. He talked about how proud he was of me. Then he did something unexpected. He raised his glass toward my mother.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd to my wife,\u201d he said, \u201cwho made the worst mistake of her life fourteen years ago and has spent every day since trying to undo it. We\u2019re still learning how to forgive. But we\u2019re learning together.<\/mark>\u201d<\/p>\n

It was the most honest thing I had ever heard my father say in public. My mother put her face in her napkin. Daniel squeezed my hand under the table.<\/p>\n

With the rest of the repayment, Daniel and I bought our first house, a little brick bungalow in Broad Ripple with a big porch. My parents\u2019 home equity loan is still being paid down. My mother picks up an extra shift at the dental office every other Saturday to help. She says she likes it. I think she needs it.<\/p>\n

\"I<\/p>\n

PART 10 \u2014 Christmas<\/h2>\n

Last Christmas, Daniel and I hosted my parents in our new house for the first time.<\/p>\n

After dinner, my mother handed me a small wrapped box. Inside was a savings passbook from the credit union and a folded note in her handwriting.<\/p>\n

The account was new. A 529 college savings plan. The beneficiary line said, \u201cFuture Grandchild of Cheryl and Rick Novak.\u201d<\/p>\n

The balance was $500.<\/p>\n

I looked up at her.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour grandfather put money into your account every Christmas for ten years,\u201d she said quietly. \u201cI\u2019m going to do the same thing for your children. Every Christmas. For as long as I live.<\/mark> And this time, the account has two people on it who can see every statement. You and me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a 529 plan,\u201d she added. \u201cI made sure. The advisor said it has better protections. And taxes. And honestly, I just wanted it to be a different kind of account than the one I ruined.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

I didn\u2019t say anything for a long time. Then I got up, took the framed photograph of Grandpa Leonard down from my bookshelf, and set it on the table between us.<\/p>\n

In the photograph, he\u2019s wearing a Santa hat at our family Christmas in 2003. I\u2019m eleven, sitting on his lap, holding an envelope he had just given me. I remember the card inside said: \u201cFor your future, kiddo. Merry Christmas. Love, Grandpa.\u201d<\/p>\n

I never knew until this year what that card really meant.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019d be angry at you, Mom,\u201d I said honestly.<\/p>\n

She nodded, her eyes wet. \u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut he\u2019d be proud of you now.\u201d<\/mark><\/p>\n

She covered her mouth with her hand.<\/p>\n

Here\u2019s what I want anyone reading this to know. If a grandparent ever tells you they\u2019ve saved for your education, ask about it. Ask where the account is and who controls it. If you\u2019re a parent managing a custodial account, remember the money legally belongs to the child. And if you\u2019ve made a mistake with money, tell the truth sooner. Secrets don\u2019t make money problems smaller. They make them grow interest.<\/mark><\/p>\n

This Christmas, I\u2019ll put the first deposit into my mother\u2019s 529 account myself. Fifty dollars, with a little card. \u201cFor your future, kiddo. Love, Grandma and Great-Grandpa Leonard.\u201d<\/p>\n

Some promises take a generation to keep. But they can still be kept.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

PART 1 \u2014 The Last Payment I was thirty-four and paying off the last $6,200 of my student loans when my grandfather\u2019s old financial advisor called. It was a Tuesday … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1269,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[6],"class_list":["post-1965","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-story-of-life","tag-family-friend-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/storylifedaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1965","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/storylifedaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/storylifedaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storylifedaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storylifedaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1965"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/storylifedaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1965\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1966,"href":"https:\/\/storylifedaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1965\/revisions\/1966"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storylifedaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/1269"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/storylifedaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1965"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storylifedaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1965"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storylifedaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1965"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}