{"id":5415,"date":"2026-09-25T04:22:53","date_gmt":"2026-09-25T04:22:53","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/newsamazingday.store\/?p=5415"},"modified":"2026-09-25T04:22:53","modified_gmt":"2026-09-25T04:22:53","slug":"when-we-were-19-my-best-friend-and-i-promised-that-if-we-were-both-single-at-60-wed-find-each-other-i-turned-60-last-tuesday-and-my-old-landline-rang-5404-10-234uh","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/newsamazingday.store\/?p=5415","title":{"rendered":"When We Were 19, My Best Friend and I Promised That If We Were Both Single at 60, We\u2019d Find Each Other \u2013 I Turned 60 Last Tuesday, and My Old Landline Rang"},"content":{"rendered":"

For most of my life, I convinced myself that some people were meant to remain in the past, no matter how badly you once wished they could have stayed in your future.<\/strong><\/h1>\n

Then, after forty-one years, I heard a voice say my name.<\/p>\n

\u201cRuthie.\u201d<\/p>\n

And suddenly, every year between us disappeared.<\/p>\n

I was standing outside a hospital room with one hand resting on the door.<\/p>\n

Forty-one years.<\/p>\n

That was how long it had been since I had seen Jeffrey.<\/p>\n

Forty-one years since his final letter.<\/p>\n

Forty-one years since he had asked me never to contact him again.<\/p>\n

Now his son, Peter, was standing beside me.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe keeps asking if you\u2019re here yet,\u201d Peter said.<\/p>\n

I looked at him.<\/p>\n

He had Jeffrey\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs he awake?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s trying to stay awake for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

For a moment, I almost turned around.<\/p>\n

I was sixty years old.<\/p>\n

I had spent most of my adult life learning how to exist without Jeffrey.<\/p>\n

And less than an hour earlier, I had been sitting alone in my childhood home when the old landline rang.<\/p>\n

Now I was about to walk into a room and see the person I had once believed would always be part of my life.<\/p>\n

I finally opened the door.<\/p>\n

Jeffrey lay in the hospital bed.<\/p>\n

He was thinner than I remembered.<\/p>\n

His hair was white now, and time had changed almost every feature of his face.<\/p>\n

But somehow, he was still unmistakably Jeffrey.<\/p>\n

His eyes found mine immediately.<\/p>\n

\u201cRuthie.\u201d<\/p>\n

My throat tightened.<\/p>\n

Then I noticed something sitting on the chair beside his bed.<\/p>\n

A wooden box.<\/p>\n

The second I recognized it, I stopped breathing.<\/p>\n

It had belonged to my father.<\/p>\n

And I hadn\u2019t seen it since the year he died.<\/p>\n

\u2014<\/p>\n

Jeffrey and I became best friends when we were seventeen.<\/p>\n

Not boyfriend and girlfriend.<\/p>\n

Just Jeffrey and Ruth.<\/p>\n

At least, that was what we always told people.<\/p>\n

He dated other girls.<\/p>\n

I went out with other boys.<\/p>\n

I even attended prom with someone else, although Jeffrey ended up driving me there after my date\u2019s car broke down.<\/p>\n

Everyone around us thought we were ridiculous.<\/p>\n

Our families were convinced that sooner or later, we would realize what they already believed was obvious.<\/p>\n

My mother, Erica, used to watch us sitting at the kitchen table arguing over homework.<\/p>\n

\u201cOne day,\u201d she would say, \u201cyou two are finally going to figure this out.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jeffrey would grin.<\/p>\n

\u201cFigure out what?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mom would just smile.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know exactly what.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then Jeffrey would look at me, and I would roll my eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re friends, Mom.\u201d<\/p>\n

And technically, that was true.<\/p>\n

The truth underneath it was something neither of us was brave enough to examine.<\/p>\n

I think we were both more afraid of losing the friendship than we were excited by the possibility of becoming something more.<\/p>\n

So we left things exactly as they were.<\/p>\n

Until one summer night when we were nineteen.<\/strong><\/h1>\n

We had both gone on terrible dates.<\/p>\n

Mine had spent nearly the entire evening talking about himself.<\/p>\n

Jeffrey\u2019s date had left early after they argued over some movie.<\/p>\n

Later that night, Jeffrey and I met at our old high school football field.<\/p>\n

The gates had been left open, so we slipped beneath the bleachers and sat in the grass.<\/p>\n

Jeffrey leaned against one of the metal supports.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re terrible at this.\u201d<\/p>\n

I laughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cAt dating?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAt choosing people.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat might be true.\u201d<\/p>\n

He became quiet.<\/p>\n

Then he asked,<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat if we never figure it out?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll survive.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat if we\u2019re both still single when we\u2019re old?\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked at him.<\/p>\n

Jeffrey held out his pinky.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf we\u2019re both single at sixty, we stop being idiots and find each other.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared at his hand.<\/p>\n

He wasn\u2019t joking.<\/p>\n

\u201cJeffrey.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI mean it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy sixty?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause if we haven\u2019t figured our lives out by then, clearly we need help.\u201d<\/p>\n

I laughed and wrapped my pinky around his.<\/p>\n

\u201cDeal.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDeal.\u201d<\/p>\n

For one strange second, neither of us moved.<\/p>\n

I remember wanting to say something else.<\/p>\n

Something important.<\/p>\n

But I didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

Two months later, Jeffrey left for college three states away.<\/p>\n

\u2014<\/p>\n

At first, distance didn\u2019t change much.<\/p>\n

We wrote constantly.<\/p>\n

Long letters.<\/p>\n

Birthday cards.<\/p>\n

Pages filled with ordinary details that somehow felt important simply because they came from each other.<\/p>\n

Jeffrey complained about his roommate, who apparently believed cleaning was optional.<\/p>\n

I told him about working at the library while studying to become a teacher.<\/p>\n

He complained about cafeteria food.<\/p>\n

I complained about people returning library books stained with coffee.<\/p>\n

During that first year, I probably knew more about Jeffrey\u2019s daily life than people who lived in his dorm.<\/p>\n

Then slowly, the letters began arriving less often.<\/p>\n

Every week became every two weeks.<\/p>\n

Every two weeks became once a month.<\/p>\n

I assumed college was changing him.<\/p>\n

But my life was changing too.<\/p>\n

I was training to become a teacher.<\/p>\n

I made new friends.<\/p>\n

I went on dates.<\/p>\n

Still, whenever anything important happened, Jeffrey remained the first person I wanted to tell.<\/p>\n

Then, during his second year, he wrote about someone named Margaret.<\/p>\n

She was studying nursing.<\/p>\n

He said she was funny.<\/p>\n

Smart.<\/p>\n

Strong-willed.<\/p>\n

He even wrote that he thought I would like her.<\/p>\n

That was when I finally understood something I should have realized years earlier.<\/strong><\/h1>\n

I loved Jeffrey.<\/p>\n

I sat on my bedroom floor holding his letter and cried.<\/p>\n

Not because he had done anything wrong.<\/p>\n

But because I had waited until someone else came along before admitting the truth to myself.<\/p>\n

That night, I began writing him a letter.<\/p>\n

I wrote several pages.<\/p>\n

I told him I loved him.<\/p>\n

I told him I suspected I always had.<\/p>\n

Then I tore the entire thing apart.<\/p>\n

If Jeffrey was happy, I couldn\u2019t bring myself to interfere.<\/p>\n

So I continued being his friend.<\/p>\n

Until the summer of 1986.<\/p>\n

That was when his final letter arrived.<\/p>\n

I knew something was wrong the moment I opened it.<\/p>\n

Jeffrey usually began every letter with a joke.<\/p>\n

This one began simply:<\/p>\n

\u201cRuth,<\/p>\n

Margaret and I are getting married. The wedding is in August.\u201d<\/p>\n

I sat at the kitchen table staring at those words.<\/p>\n

I kept reading.<\/p>\n

He explained that the ceremony would be small and that Margaret\u2019s family was helping them begin their life together.<\/p>\n

I told myself I could accept that.<\/p>\n

Then I reached the last paragraph.<\/p>\n

Jeffrey asked me not to contact him anymore.<\/p>\n

He wrote that Margaret understood how close we had been and that he wanted to give his marriage the best possible beginning.<\/p>\n

He said our friendship mattered too much to him to let it become something capable of hurting another person.<\/p>\n

At the bottom, he wrote:<\/p>\n

\u201cI hope you have a wonderful life, Ruthie.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m sorry.<\/p>\n

Jeffrey.\u201d<\/p>\n

I cried for weeks.<\/p>\n

But I respected his choice.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t write back.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t call.<\/p>\n

I never tried to see him.<\/p>\n

For a while, mutual acquaintances occasionally told me things.<\/p>\n

Jeffrey and Margaret had a son.<\/p>\n

His career was going well.<\/p>\n

Eventually, even those small updates disappeared.<\/p>\n

I never married.<\/p>\n

I dated.<\/p>\n

I had relationships.<\/p>\n

Some were good.<\/p>\n

One came close to becoming permanent.<\/p>\n

Whenever people asked why I never settled down, I gave them the answer that required the least explanation.<\/p>\n

\u201cI just never met the right man.\u201d<\/p>\n

That wasn\u2019t entirely true.<\/p>\n

I had met him when I was seventeen.<\/strong><\/h1>\n

Last Tuesday, I turned sixty.<\/p>\n

By then, I was living in my childhood home again.<\/p>\n

After my parents died, I kept the house.<\/p>\n

I had spent enough years moving between apartments that returning there somehow felt right.<\/p>\n

That evening, I ate dinner alone and cut myself a slice of birthday cake.<\/p>\n

At 9:17 p.m., the old landline rang.<\/p>\n

Almost nobody used that number anymore.<\/p>\n

I nearly let it ring.<\/p>\n

Instead, I answered.<\/p>\n

\u201cHello?\u201d<\/p>\n

A man\u2019s voice said,<\/p>\n

\u201cIs this Ruth?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy name is Peter. I\u2019m Jeffrey\u2019s son.\u201d<\/p>\n

I immediately sat down.<\/p>\n

For several seconds, I couldn\u2019t speak.<\/p>\n

\u201cJeffrey\u2019s son?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

My stomach tightened.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n

Peter hesitated.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy father wants to talk to you. He\u2026 doesn\u2019t have much time.\u201d<\/p>\n

My hand tightened around the receiver.<\/p>\n

Before I could respond, I heard movement on the other end.<\/p>\n

Then another voice came through.<\/p>\n

Weak.<\/p>\n

Older.<\/p>\n

But instantly familiar.<\/p>\n

\u201cRuthie.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tears filled my eyes.<\/p>\n

Then I heard the faintest laugh.<\/p>\n

\u201cJeffrey?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou remembered.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course I remembered.\u201d<\/p>\n

Forty-one years vanished in a single conversation.<\/p>\n

Then Jeffrey\u2019s voice broke.<\/p>\n

\u201cRuthie, there\u2019s something I need you to know before I die.\u201d<\/p>\n

I closed my eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI was in love with you when we made that promise.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stopped breathing.<\/p>\n

\u201cJeffrey\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I had already bought the ring.\u201d<\/p>\n

My eyes opened.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat ring?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe ring I planned to give you before I left for college.\u201d<\/p>\n

The room seemed to shift around me.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u201cThen why didn\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

He started crying.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s what I\u2019ve spent forty years wishing I could explain.\u201d<\/p>\n

His voice dropped.<\/p>\n

\u201cI need you to come here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJeffrey\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease come to the hospital.\u201d<\/p>\n

His breathing sounded strained.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s something you need to see. Once you see it, maybe you\u2019ll finally understand why I walked away.\u201d<\/p>\n

I grabbed my coat.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere are you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u2014<\/p>\n

Forty minutes later, I entered Jeffrey\u2019s hospital room.<\/p>\n

He looked at me and smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Ruthie.\u201d<\/p>\n

I started crying before I could stop myself.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, idiot.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then I noticed the wooden box beside him.<\/p>\n

I recognized it immediately.<\/p>\n

It had belonged to my father, Thomas.<\/p>\n

He kept important papers inside it when I was growing up.<\/p>\n

After Dad died, I searched everywhere for that box and never found it.<\/p>\n

I looked at Jeffrey.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy do you have my father\u2019s box?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOpen it.\u201d<\/p>\n

My hands trembled as I lifted the lid.<\/p>\n

Inside were letters.<\/p>\n

Dozens of them.<\/p>\n

Some were written by my father.<\/p>\n

Beneath them sat a small ring box.<\/p>\n

I opened it.<\/p>\n

Inside was a simple diamond ring.<\/p>\n

I stared at Jeffrey.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou bought this?\u201d<\/p>\n

He nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you give it to me?\u201d<\/p>\n

He pointed toward another envelope.<\/p>\n

Jeffrey\u2019s name was written across the front.<\/p>\n

The handwriting belonged to my father.<\/p>\n

I unfolded the letter.<\/p>\n

My father had written to Jeffrey shortly before he left for college.<\/p>\n

He explained that I was likely to be accepted into a teaching program near home.<\/p>\n

That I had an opportunity to build a future for myself.<\/p>\n

Then he asked Jeffrey not to make me choose between that future and following him.<\/p>\n

Dad believed that if Jeffrey proposed, I would immediately go with him.<\/p>\n

He asked Jeffrey to step aside.<\/p>\n

To give me the opportunity to become my own person.<\/p>\n

I looked up through tears.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy father sent this to you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBefore I left. He knew about the ring.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI showed it to him. I went to ask for his blessing.\u201d<\/p>\n

I sat down.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did he tell you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat we were too young. That you were so loyal to me that you would give up anything if I asked.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared at the pile of letters.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo you left and eventually started another life.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI tried to stay close to you. But after a while, I convinced myself your father was right. I thought keeping my distance was helping you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anger rose inside me.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou never asked what I wanted.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n

His answer was barely a whisper.<\/p>\n

Jeffrey looked toward the window.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen your letters started coming less often, I assumed your father had been right. I thought you were moving on.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy letters slowed down because yours did.\u201d<\/p>\n

He nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know that now.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then he paused.<\/p>\n

\u201cActually, I knew before I married Margaret.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared at him.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour father came to see me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe came to tell me he had been wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n

My father died the following year after a long illness.<\/p>\n

According to Jeffrey, Dad had begun regretting what he had done.<\/p>\n

He realized that he had interfered with a decision that should have belonged to us.<\/p>\n

During that visit, he gave Jeffrey the wooden box.<\/p>\n

Inside were old letters my father had written to my mother before they married.<\/p>\n

My father had once been in almost the exact same situation.<\/p>\n

My mother\u2019s parent had believed Dad wasn\u2019t right for her.<\/p>\n

Had my father listened back then, I would never have existed.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you come back?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

Jeffrey looked at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause by then, I had already promised my life to Margaret.\u201d<\/p>\n

He swallowed.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I loved her too, Ruth.\u201d<\/p>\n

Strangely, hearing that didn\u2019t hurt.<\/p>\n

I thought it would.<\/p>\n

Instead, I asked,<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat you had with her\u2026 it was real?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen I\u2019m glad.\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked surprised.<\/p>\n

\u201cI wouldn\u2019t want another woman\u2019s entire marriage turned into some mistake just because you and I were too frightened to say what we wanted when we were nineteen.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jeffrey reached for my hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cI wrote that last letter because I knew if we kept talking, there was a chance I would run back to you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd cutting me out completely seemed better?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

A sad smile crossed his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought it was the responsible thing to do.\u201d<\/p>\n

He sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cI was wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n

I held his hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cDid Margaret know?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEventually.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did she say?\u201d<\/p>\n

Jeffrey smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe said we were two of the stupidest people she had ever heard of.\u201d<\/p>\n

I laughed.<\/p>\n

Jeffrey laughed too.<\/p>\n

Even Peter smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe sounds smart,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe was.\u201d<\/p>\n

Margaret had died several years earlier.<\/p>\n

After her death, Jeffrey considered contacting me many times.<\/p>\n

But every time, he stopped himself.<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t know if I had the right anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou could have tried.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n

I shook my head.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo we lost more than forty years because everyone kept deciding what was best for everyone else.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPretty much.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat might be the dumbest thing I\u2019ve ever heard.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAlso true.\u201d<\/p>\n

We sat quietly for a moment.<\/p>\n

Then something occurred to me.<\/strong><\/h1>\n

\u201cJeffrey.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sixty.\u201d<\/p>\n

His eyes widened.<\/p>\n

Then slowly, he smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo you are.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe had a deal.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jeffrey lifted his hand.<\/p>\n

His fingers were trembling.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf we\u2019re both single at sixty\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

I wrapped my pinky around his.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe stop being idiots and find each other.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tears ran down his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cStill single?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMe too.\u201d<\/p>\n

My eyes moved toward the ring.<\/p>\n

\u2014<\/p>\n

I stayed beside Jeffrey through the following day.<\/p>\n

We talked for hours.<\/p>\n

More than I thought two people possibly could.<\/p>\n

He told me about Peter and his daughter, Anna.<\/p>\n

I told him about my students and the decades I had spent teaching.<\/p>\n

We talked about Margaret.<\/p>\n

My mother.<\/p>\n

My father.<\/p>\n

Even the mistakes all of us had made.<\/p>\n

I was angry with Dad.<\/p>\n

Part of me probably always will be.<\/p>\n

But at sixty, I could understand something that nineteen-year-old Ruth never would have.<\/p>\n

My father had been frightened for me.<\/p>\n

Just as my mother\u2019s father had once been frightened for her.<\/p>\n

Dad had made the wrong choice because he believed he was protecting my future.<\/p>\n

Jeffrey had done the same thing.<\/p>\n

And so had I.<\/p>\n

All of us had kept quiet because we convinced ourselves silence would hurt less.<\/p>\n

It didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

\u2014<\/p>\n

Two days later, Jeffrey was released from the hospital.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

Peter arranged for him to stay with family and receive care at home.<\/p>\n

Nobody knows exactly how much time Jeffrey has left.<\/p>\n

I have decided I don\u2019t want to count it.<\/p>\n

Yesterday, Peter drove him to my house.<\/p>\n

Jeffrey and I sat together on the same porch where we used to do our homework as teenagers.<\/p>\n

He held my hand.<\/p>\n

The wooden box sat beside us.<\/p>\n

Finally, Jeffrey smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cI never officially asked you.\u201d<\/p>\n

He glanced down at the ring box.<\/p>\n

\u201cRuth, would nineteen-year-old you have said yes?\u201d<\/p>\n

I thought about the girl I had been.<\/p>\n

Then I looked at the man sitting beside me.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

He smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd what about sixty-year-old Ruth?\u201d<\/p>\n

I squeezed his hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s smarter.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jeffrey laughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo that\u2019s a no?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

I leaned closer.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt means she understands that we don\u2019t need another forty years to prove something we already know.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jeffrey took out the ring.<\/p>\n

Then, forty-one years after he bought it, he slipped it onto my finger.<\/p>\n

It fit.<\/p>\n

I looked at him.<\/p>\n

He rested his head gently against mine.<\/p>\n

For most of my life, I believed our story had ended in 1986.<\/p>\n

It hadn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

We had simply stopped writing it.<\/p>\n

Now Jeffrey calls me every morning.<\/p>\n

Peter visits often.<\/p>\n

His daughter Anna has already started calling me Aunt Ruth, even though I told her she doesn\u2019t have to.<\/p>\n

Jeffrey and I will never recover the decades we lost.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve accepted that.<\/p>\n

But I refuse to waste whatever time remains by mourning years neither of us can change.<\/p>\n

For most of my life, I believed that meeting the right person at the wrong time meant the opportunity was gone forever.<\/p>\n

Now I know timing isn\u2019t always the end of the story.<\/p>\n

Sometimes life opens the same door twice.<\/p>\n

You just have to be brave enough to walk through it the second time.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

For most of my life, I convinced myself that some people were meant to remain in the past, no matter how badly…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":3666,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5415","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-news"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/newsamazingday.store\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5415","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/newsamazingday.store\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/newsamazingday.store\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newsamazingday.store\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newsamazingday.store\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=5415"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/newsamazingday.store\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5415\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newsamazingday.store\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/3666"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/newsamazingday.store\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=5415"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newsamazingday.store\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=5415"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newsamazingday.store\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=5415"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}