{"id":6662,"date":"2026-10-30T03:14:28","date_gmt":"2026-10-30T03:14:28","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/oldstorylife.com\/?p=6662"},"modified":"2026-10-30T03:14:28","modified_gmt":"2026-10-30T03:14:28","slug":"at-my-husbands-funeral-lunch-his-brothers-handed-me-a-500000-buyout-and-told-me-to-leave-the-farm-so-i-bought-80-acres-across-the-road","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/oldstorylife.com\/?p=6662","title":{"rendered":"At My Husband\u2019s Funeral Lunch, His Brothers Handed Me a $500,000 Buyout and Told Me to Leave the Farm, So I Bought 80 Acres Across the Road"},"content":{"rendered":"
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At My Husband\u2019s Funeral Lunch, His Brothers Handed Me a $500,000 Buyout and Told Me to Leave the Farm, So I Bought 80 Acres Across the Road<\/h1>\n
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October 29.10.2026\u00a0 by Old Story<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Six days after my husband passed away, his two brothers handed me a $500,000 check at his funeral luncheon.<\/strong><\/h1>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s your share of the farm, Melissa,\u201d Randy explained. \u201cThe partnership agreement allows us to buy you out.\u201d<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

Then his younger brother, Scott, added something that made my heart sink.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe farmhouse belongs to the business. We\u2019ll need you and Abby to move out before planting season.\u201d<\/p>\n

My husband had been gone less than a week.<\/p>\n

Our twelve-year-old daughter had barely begun grieving.<\/p>\n

And now we were being asked to leave the only home she\u2019d ever known.<\/p>\n

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

I quietly placed the check inside my purse and replied, \u201cI understand.\u201d<\/p>\n

What Randy didn\u2019t realize was that I\u2019d managed the farm\u2019s finances for twenty years.<\/p>\n

I knew exactly what the agreement said.<\/p>\n

And before planting season arrived, I was going to make a decision neither brother expected.<\/p>\n

My name is Melissa Engel. For twenty years, I lived with my husband, Jeff, on our family\u2019s farm in Webster County, Nebraska.<\/p>\n

Jeff was forty-seven when he passed away unexpectedly.<\/p>\n

One evening, he went outside to inspect a hydraulic problem on our planter.<\/p>\n

\u201cTwenty minutes,\u201d he promised, kissing my forehead.<\/p>\n

When he didn\u2019t return, I went looking for him.<\/p>\n

I found him beside the equipment, unresponsive.<\/p>\n

Doctors later explained that he\u2019d experienced a sudden cardiac emergency.<\/p>\n

Six days later, I was sitting in the basement of St. Paul\u2019s Lutheran Church, surrounded by relatives and neighbors who\u2019d gathered after his funeral.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s when Randy handed me the envelope.<\/p>\n

Inside was a cashier\u2019s check for $500,000.<\/p>\n

Jeff and his brothers, Randy and Scott, had operated Engel Brothers together for years.<\/p>\n

Their father had established the partnership to keep the family\u2019s 1,100 acres from being divided.<\/p>\n

Under the agreement, surviving partners could purchase a deceased partner\u2019s share.<\/p>\n

The farmhouse was also partnership property.<\/p>\n

I\u2019d reviewed those documents countless times while handling the business accounts.<\/p>\n

The amount they\u2019d offered was consistent with the agreement.<\/p>\n

Legally, they had the right to proceed.<\/p>\n

But I couldn\u2019t understand why they needed to tell me at my husband\u2019s funeral.<\/p>\n

Randy explained that the bank wanted the business\u2019s financial arrangements settled before spring planting.<\/p>\n

He described the payment as a clean break.<\/strong><\/h1>\n

I simply nodded.<\/p>\n

Across the room, my daughter Abby sat quietly beside my sister.<\/p>\n

She hadn\u2019t cried during the service.<\/p>\n

But when we returned home that evening, she finally asked the question I\u2019d been dreading.<\/p>\n

\u201cMom, are we leaving our house?\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cWhere will we go?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI haven\u2019t decided yet.\u201d<\/p>\n

She stared toward the window.<\/p>\n

Beyond our yard stretched the fields where Jeff had worked his entire life.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen Dad planted corn,\u201d she whispered, \u201cI used to watch the tractor lights moving across the fields at night.\u201d<\/p>\n

I took her hand.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cI don\u2019t want to forget what they looked like.\u201d<\/p>\n

Those words stayed with me.<\/p>\n

Long after Abby went to bed, I sat alone at our kitchen table.<\/p>\n

Across the gravel road stood the old Wiebe farm.<\/p>\n

Eighty acres of dryland, a modest white farmhouse, and a red barn.<\/p>\n

Jeff had always admired that property.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf I ever win the lottery,\u201d he used to joke, \u201cI\u2019ll buy that little farm for Abby.\u201d<\/p>\n

The property had been listed for months without selling.<\/p>\n

I remembered the asking price.<\/p>\n

$430,000.<\/p>\n

I looked at the $500,000 check.<\/p>\n

Then I took out a pencil.<\/p>\n

After buying the property, I\u2019d have approximately $70,000 remaining.<\/p>\n

It wouldn\u2019t be much once I purchased machinery, seed, and supplies.<\/p>\n

But it might be enough.<\/p>\n

By sunrise, I\u2019d made my decision.<\/p>\n

I wasn\u2019t moving Abby away from her father\u2019s fields.<\/p>\n

I was going to buy the farm across the road.<\/p>\n

The following Monday, I visited the bank in Hastings.<\/p>\n

The loan officer, Kyle Hoffman, expressed his condolences.<\/strong><\/h1>\n

Then he asked whether I wanted to deposit the check.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d I replied. \u201cAnd I\u2019d also like to purchase a farm.\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked surprised.<\/p>\n

I contacted the real estate agent and offered the full $430,000 asking price for the Wiebe property.<\/p>\n

The sellers accepted the following morning.<\/p>\n

Before completing the purchase, I contacted Gary Lindholm, the attorney who had prepared the family partnership agreement.<\/p>\n

I wanted to confirm that accepting the buyout would end my financial obligations to Engel Brothers.<\/p>\n

He reviewed the documents.<\/p>\n

\u201cOnce everything is completed, Melissa, you won\u2019t be responsible for the partnership\u2019s future operating debts.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd the farmhouse?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat belongs to the partnership.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI understand,\u201d I said. \u201cI just want to make sure my new place belongs to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

We closed the purchase on April 22.<\/p>\n

When the title officer handed me the keys, I held them tightly.<\/p>\n

For the first time since Jeff\u2019s passing, I felt a small sense of hope.<\/p>\n

But owning eighty acres was only the beginning.<\/p>\n

I still needed equipment.<\/p>\n

At a nearby farm auction, I purchased a used John Deere tractor for $32,500 and an older eight-row planter for $9,000.<\/p>\n

I bought seed corn and necessary supplies.<\/p>\n

My remaining money was disappearing quickly.<\/p>\n

There was also a serious risk.<\/p>\n

The deadline for purchasing crop insurance had passed.<\/p>\n

If bad weather destroyed my first harvest, I could lose nearly everything I\u2019d invested.<\/p>\n

I understood that.<\/p>\n

But I also knew farming.<\/p>\n

I\u2019d spent nineteen harvest seasons working beside Jeff.<\/p>\n

I knew the equipment.<\/p>\n

I understood the soil.<\/p>\n

And I knew what it took to keep a farm operating.<\/p>\n

Then I learned something that made Randy\u2019s urgency easier to understand.<\/p>\n

His son Luke was returning from college to join the family business.<\/p>\n

And Randy intended to give him our old farmhouse.<\/p>\n

Suddenly, the short deadline made sense.<\/p>\n

Randy wanted to prepare a home for his son.<\/p>\n

In doing so, he\u2019d overlooked what losing that home meant to Jeff\u2019s widow and daughter.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t confront him.<\/p>\n

I had my own future to build.<\/p>\n

When I finally told Abby about the purchase, I placed the keys in her hand.<\/strong><\/h1>\n

\u201cWe bought the Wiebe farm,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

She stared at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cAcross the road?\u201d<\/p>\n

I nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe little white house?\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cAnd the eighty acres?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAll ours.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her eyes widened.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre we going to farm it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re going to try.\u201d<\/p>\n

She wrapped her arms around me.<\/p>\n

For the first time since her father\u2019s passing, I heard genuine excitement in her voice.<\/p>\n

We moved during the final week of April.<\/p>\n

My sister helped us pack.<\/p>\n

Neighbors brought trailers.<\/p>\n

And we carried twenty years of memories across a gravel road.<\/p>\n

As we loaded the last boxes, Randy\u2019s wife, Lori, stopped by.<\/p>\n

She looked uncomfortable.<\/p>\n

\u201cMelissa, I told Randy the funeral wasn\u2019t the right time to discuss the buyout.\u201d<\/p>\n

I nodded.<\/p>\n

Then she noticed something hanging beside our old kitchen door.<\/p>\n

Jeff\u2019s green seed cap.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d worn it every spring.<\/p>\n

I had nearly forgotten it.<\/p>\n

Abby reached up and took it from the hook.<\/p>\n

She placed it on her head.<\/p>\n

The brim dropped over her eyebrows.<\/p>\n

I had to look away for a moment.<\/p>\n

She looked so much like her father.<\/p>\n

The first week of May arrived with warm weather.<\/p>\n

The ground was ready for planting.<\/p>\n

I woke before sunrise, checked the tractor, filled the planter, and prepared for my first day working the farm on my own.<\/p>\n

Across the road, Randy and Scott were beginning their planting season with their large equipment.<\/p>\n

I started my old tractor.<\/p>\n

Then I drove into my eighty-acre field.<\/p>\n

Nobody waved.<\/p>\n

Randy watched from beside his pickup.<\/p>\n

Then he looked away.<\/p>\n

I kept driving.<\/p>\n

The first day was exhausting.<\/p>\n

The planter developed a problem.<\/p>\n

I repeatedly stopped to adjust the equipment.<\/p>\n

Without a seed tender, I had to lift heavy seed bags into the planter myself.<\/p>\n

By afternoon, my shoulders ached.<\/p>\n

Abby rode beside me, wearing Jeff\u2019s green cap.<\/p>\n

Sometimes she\u2019d point toward the fields across the road.<\/p>\n

\u201cDad used to plant that one first,\u201d she\u2019d say.<\/p>\n

I smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe certainly did.\u201d<\/p>\n

By evening, I\u2019d managed to plant only about twenty acres.<\/p>\n

Jeff could have done three times that.<\/p>\n

When I finally returned home, I was so tired I could barely lift my arms.<\/p>\n

Abby made scrambled eggs.<\/p>\n

Then she found the liniment Jeff used for his aching knees and gently rubbed some into my shoulders.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs this how Dad used to do it?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust like that.\u201d<\/p>\n

I lowered my head so she wouldn\u2019t see my tears.<\/p>\n

After dinner, I went outside to refill the planter.<\/p>\n

I wanted everything ready before sunrise.<\/p>\n

I was so exhausted that I briefly fell asleep while resting against the tractor.<\/strong><\/h1>\n

When I woke, the lights were still on in our old farmhouse across the road.<\/p>\n

Someone stood at the kitchen window.<\/p>\n

Watching.<\/p>\n

The next morning, while I was carrying seed bags, I heard footsteps behind me.<\/p>\n

It was Luke.<\/p>\n

Randy\u2019s twenty-four-year-old son.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d recently graduated from the University of Nebraska.<\/p>\n

I hadn\u2019t spoken to him properly since Jeff\u2019s funeral.<\/p>\n

\u201cAunt Melissa,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cMorning, Luke.\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked at the planter.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour sixth row was skipping yesterday.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

He nodded.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

Then he studied the stack of seed bags.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet me operate the tractor today. You can haul seed. We\u2019ll get twice as much done.\u201d<\/p>\n

I hesitated.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour father needs you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUncle Scott\u2019s handling their planter this morning.\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked down.<\/p>\n

\u201cBesides, I need to tell you something.\u201d<\/p>\n

I waited.<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t know Dad was going to give you that check at the funeral.\u201d<\/p>\n

His voice became quieter.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I never asked him to make you leave so quickly.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cHe wanted you to have a place to come home to.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know,\u201d Luke admitted. \u201cI accepted because I didn\u2019t think about what it meant for you and Abby.\u201d<\/p>\n

He paused.<\/p>\n

\u201cUncle Jeff taught me how to operate a planter when I was eleven. I think he\u2019d want me to help.\u201d<\/p>\n

My eyes filled with tears.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen climb aboard.\u201d<\/p>\n

Luke worked the field all morning.<\/p>\n

Abby sat beside him wearing her father\u2019s cap.<\/p>\n

I hauled supplies and helped refill the planter.<\/p>\n

With Luke operating the equipment, our progress improved dramatically.<\/p>\n

Around noon, Scott arrived pulling the partnership\u2019s seed tender.<\/p>\n

He positioned it beside my planter and began filling the boxes.<\/p>\n

He worked quietly.<\/p>\n

When he\u2019d finished, he left the equipment near the field.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ll need it for the rest of the week,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cScott, are you sure?\u201d<\/p>\n

He nodded.<\/p>\n

Then his eyes filled with tears.<\/p>\n

\u201cI should have spoken up at the funeral.\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked toward the gravel road.<\/p>\n

\u201cRandy handled everything, and I let him. Jeff had barely been laid to rest, and we were already asking his wife to move out.\u201d<\/p>\n

He swallowed.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, Melissa.\u201d<\/p>\n

I touched his arm.<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you.\u201d<\/p>\n

That day, Luke and I planted nearly forty acres.<\/p>\n

A gentle rain arrived on Friday.<\/p>\n

For the first time in weeks, I stood at my kitchen window feeling grateful.<\/p>\n

The freshly planted ground was receiving exactly what it needed.<\/p>\n

On Saturday evening, Lori called.<\/p>\n

\u201cSunday dinner is at twelve-thirty,\u201d she announced.<\/p>\n

I remained silent.<\/p>\n

\u201cMelissa, I\u2019m setting places for you and Abby. You\u2019re still family.\u201d<\/p>\n

The following day, we returned to our old farmhouse.<\/p>\n

Walking through the back door as a guest felt strange.<\/p>\n

The kitchen smelled of roast beef and fresh bread.<\/p>\n

Everyone was already seated.<\/p>\n

Randy stood when we entered.<\/p>\n

That surprised me.<\/p>\n

He waited until Abby and I sat down.<\/p>\n

Then he cleared his throat.<\/p>\n

\u201cMelissa, there\u2019s something I need to say.\u201d<\/p>\n

The table became quiet.<\/p>\n

\u201cI told myself the buyout was necessary because the bank wanted our finances settled.\u201d<\/p>\n

He paused.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat was partly true. But the real reason was Luke.\u201d<\/p>\n

Luke looked toward his father.<\/p>\n

\u201cI wanted him to have a home when he returned,\u201d Randy continued. \u201cAnd I convinced myself that giving you a large check would make everything easier.\u201d<\/p>\n

He lowered his eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I handled it badly. The timing was wrong. I should have thought about you and Abby.\u201d<\/p>\n

For a moment, nobody spoke.<\/p>\n

Then Randy continued.<\/p>\n

\u201cI watched you working that field alone the first day. I saw you lifting those heavy bags, and I realized how badly I\u2019d treated Jeff\u2019s family.\u201d<\/p>\n

His voice trembled.<\/p>\n

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

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

Then he made an offer.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you want the old house back, we\u2019ll arrange it. Luke can live somewhere else.\u201d<\/strong><\/h1>\n

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

\u201cThank you, Randy. But I already have a house.\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked surprised.<\/p>\n

\u201cAcross the road,\u201d I continued. \u201cWith eighty acres I\u2019m determined to farm.\u201d<\/p>\n

A small smile appeared on his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen what can we do?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d like Abby and me to keep coming to Sunday dinner.\u201d<\/p>\n

Lori immediately nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd when harvest comes, I\u2019d like to hire your combine at a fair rate.\u201d<\/p>\n

Randy waved a hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can use it free.\u201d<\/p>\n

I smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cJeff would never have accepted that.\u201d<\/p>\n

Randy laughed softly.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. He would\u2019ve argued with me about the price for an hour.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then Abby removed Jeff\u2019s green cap and placed it on the table.<\/p>\n

Randy stared at it.<\/p>\n

His expression changed.<\/p>\n

\u201cI gave Jeff that hat,\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n

He gently touched the brim.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe was sixteen. I bought it at a seed meeting. He wore it every spring afterward.\u201d<\/p>\n

His voice broke.<\/p>\n

For the first time since the funeral, I saw Randy cry.<\/p>\n

Nobody rushed him.<\/p>\n

Nobody tried to change the subject.<\/p>\n

We simply sat together, remembering the man we\u2019d lost.<\/p>\n

After dinner, Luke disappeared into the pantry.<\/p>\n

When he returned, he was carrying a long piece of painted wood.<\/p>\n

It was part of the old pantry doorframe.<\/p>\n

Every birthday, Jeff had stood Abby beside that frame and marked her height with a pencil.<\/p>\n

Twelve marks covered the wood.<\/p>\n

The final one read:<\/p>\n

Abby, 12 \u2014 last November.<\/p>\n

Luke handed it to her.<\/p>\n

\u201cI removed it carefully this morning. I thought you should have it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Abby ran her fingers over the marks.<\/p>\n

Then she hugged him tightly.<\/p>\n

I watched them, struggling to hold back tears.<\/p>\n

That small piece of wood meant more to us than anything expensive we could have carried from the old farmhouse.<\/p>\n

The following Monday, we finished planting all eighty acres.<\/p>\n

Luke drove the tractor.<\/p>\n

I managed the supplies.<\/p>\n

Abby rode beside him in Jeff\u2019s cap.<\/p>\n

Across the road, Randy was completing the family\u2019s final field.<\/p>\n

As evening approached, both tractors switched on their lights.<\/p>\n

I stood beside Abby watching them move across the darkening fields.<\/p>\n

\u201cCount the passes,\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n

She smiled.<\/p>\n

Then she raised one hand to hold her father\u2019s cap in place.<\/p>\n

Just as she\u2019d done when riding with him.<\/p>\n

Summer brought uncertainty.<\/p>\n

Rainfall had been poor in previous years, and our crop wasn\u2019t insured.<\/strong><\/h1>\n

There were nights when I lay awake listening for thunder.<\/p>\n

Every dry day made me nervous.<\/p>\n

But July brought two welcome rains.<\/p>\n

The corn grew steadily.<\/p>\n

By October, our field was ready for harvest.<\/p>\n

Luke drove the partnership\u2019s combine across the road.<\/p>\n

Randy accompanied him.<\/p>\n

I handed Randy a check for the agreed harvesting rate.<\/p>\n

He looked at it.<\/p>\n

Then smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cJeff would\u2019ve argued about this.\u201d<\/p>\n

I nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you\u2019d have bought him dinner afterward.\u201d<\/p>\n

That evening, Randy and Lori took Abby and me to the steakhouse in Hastings.<\/p>\n

Randy insisted on paying.<\/p>\n

Our first harvest was better than I\u2019d dared to hope.<\/p>\n

The eighty-acre farm produced an average of 141 bushels of corn per acre.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

After settling expenses, I paid off the small equipment loan I\u2019d taken out and began preparing for the following season.<\/p>\n

I also opened a savings account for Abby.<\/p>\n

On the deposit slip, I wrote:<\/p>\n

For the Wiebe eighty.<\/p>\n

I intended to give her the farm when she turned eighteen, just as Jeff had once dreamed.<\/p>\n

The following month, Luke helped me install the old pantry doorframe inside our new farmhouse.<\/p>\n

It hung beside the front entrance.<\/p>\n

On Abby\u2019s thirteenth birthday, she stood against it.<\/p>\n

I placed a book on her head, took Jeff\u2019s carpenter\u2019s pencil, and made another mark.<\/p>\n

Abby, 13 \u2014 Wiebe place.<\/p>\n

She stepped away and looked out the window.<\/p>\n

Across the gravel road lay the fields where her father had spent so many years working.<\/p>\n

\u201cMom,\u201d she said, \u201cnext spring, can I help plant the end rows?\u201d<\/p>\n

I smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course. Once you\u2019re tall enough to reach the pedals.\u201d<\/p>\n

She laughed.<\/p>\n

Then she picked up Jeff\u2019s old green cap.<\/p>\n

It still sat a little too low on her forehead.<\/p>\n

But not nearly as low as the year before.<\/p>\n

I watched her looking toward the fields.<\/p>\n

And I understood something I\u2019d struggled to accept since the day Jeff died.<\/p>\n

We hadn\u2019t lost every part of our old life.<\/p>\n

We\u2019d carried the most important pieces with us.<\/strong><\/h1>\n

The memories.<\/p>\n

The love.<\/p>\n

The traditions.<\/p>\n

And the determination Jeff had taught us.<\/p>\n

His brothers had given me a check because they believed a clean break would make everything simpler.<\/p>\n

They hadn\u2019t intended to give me a new beginning.<\/p>\n

But that\u2019s exactly what I\u2019d created.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t need to defeat them.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t need to take revenge.<\/p>\n

And I didn\u2019t need anyone to feel ashamed forever.<\/p>\n

I needed a home for my daughter, work that gave me purpose, and the freedom to choose our future.<\/p>\n

I found all three across a gravel road.<\/p>\n

Because sometimes the greatest inheritance isn\u2019t the land someone leaves behind. It\u2019s the courage they give you to build a life of your own.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

At My Husband\u2019s Funeral Lunch, His Brothers Handed Me a $500,000 Buyout and Told Me to Leave the Farm, So I Bought 80 Acres Across the Road October 29.10.2026\u00a0 by … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":6663,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6662","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-old-story-life"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/oldstorylife.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6662","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/oldstorylife.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/oldstorylife.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/oldstorylife.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/oldstorylife.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=6662"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/oldstorylife.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6662\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6664,"href":"https:\/\/oldstorylife.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6662\/revisions\/6664"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/oldstorylife.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/6663"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/oldstorylife.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6662"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/oldstorylife.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6662"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/oldstorylife.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6662"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}