{"id":21040,"date":"2026-09-21T20:42:18","date_gmt":"2026-09-21T20:42:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/?p=21040"},"modified":"2026-09-21T20:42:18","modified_gmt":"2026-09-21T20:42:18","slug":"my-terminally-ill-wife-asked-me-to-find-my-first-love-as-her-final-wish-when-i-learned-why-my-knees-nearly-gave-out","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/?p=21040","title":{"rendered":"MY TERMINALLY ILL WIFE ASKED ME TO FIND MY FIRST LOVE AS HER FINAL WISH \u2013 WHEN I LEARNED WHY, MY KNEES NEARLY GAVE OUT"},"content":{"rendered":"

MY WIFE WAS DYING WHEN SHE ASKED ME TO FIND ANNA\u2014the woman who had rejected my proposal forty years earlier. I kept that promise. But Anna\u2019s first words made me question everything I believed about my marriage.<\/span><\/p>\n

The hospital room smelled sharply of antiseptic, mixed with the faint lavender lotion Carol always carried in her purse. I sat in the vinyl chair beside her bed, holding her fragile hand as the machines maintained their slow, steady rhythm.<\/p>\n

\n
\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

Thirty-six years of marriage had somehow been reduced to this small square of light. \u201cDo you remember the porch swing?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\n
\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

Her eyes opened slowly. \u201cYou painted it green.\u201d<\/p>\n

\n
\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\u201cOur daughter hated it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\n
\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\u201cShe was four. She hated everything that wasn\u2019t pink.\u201d<\/p>\n

\n
\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

Carol smiled before wincing.
\n\"\"
\nI squeezed her hand more tightly.<\/p>\n

Two days earlier, the doctor had taken me into the hallway. He spoke carefully, but only a few words stayed with me.<\/p>\n

Spread.<\/p>\n

Nothing more.<\/p>\n

Comfort.<\/p>\n

Carol had entered my life when I was at my lowest. She never pushed me to explain the pain I carried. She simply remained beside me.<\/p>\n

And little by little, then completely, I fell in love with her.<\/p>\n

From the start, Carol told me she couldn\u2019t have children. I accepted that and assumed fatherhood would never become part of my life.<\/p>\n

Then later, she suggested adoption.<\/p>\n

A little girl.<\/p>\n

That was when we chose to marry and build a family together.<\/p>\n

\u201cWalt.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m right here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTell me about Sunday breakfasts. When Rebecca was little.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou made cinnamon pancakes. Our daughter sat on the counter cracking eggs and getting shells in the bowl.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe looked so much like me back then.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe still does.\u201d<\/p>\n

People around Millfield used to say Rebecca had inherited her mother\u2019s entire face.<\/p>\n

\u201cExcept those green eyes,\u201d I said. \u201cThey always made her stand out.\u201d<\/p>\n

Carol turned her face away.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey certainly did.\u201d<\/p>\n

She remained quiet for a moment.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour mother would\u2019ve loved seeing her grown.\u201d<\/p>\n

I thought about Ruth, my mother, who had passed away ten years earlier.<\/p>\n

Half of Millfield still remembered her as a saint. She had taught Sunday school for forty years and never failed to bring a casserole to a grieving neighbor.<\/p>\n

\u201cMama would\u2019ve spoiled her rotten.\u201d<\/p>\n

Carol\u2019s fingers suddenly tightened around mine.<\/p>\n

\u201cWalt, I\u2019ve been a good wife to you, haven\u2019t I?\u201d<\/p>\n

The question surprised me.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve been the best thing that ever happened to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cI need you to promise me something. Say yes before I tell you what it is.\u201d<\/p>\n

After thirty-six years together, I had no reason to hesitate.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnything.\u201d<\/p>\n

Carol slowly inhaled.<\/p>\n

\u201cFind Anna, please. You\u2019ll understand everything once you find her. And please\u2026 forgive me in advance.\u201d<\/p>\n

The name struck me like a stone falling into still water.<\/p>\n

Anna.<\/p>\n

A woman I hadn\u2019t seen in forty years.<\/p>\n

\u201cCarol, what are you talking about? Anna who? What do you need me to forgive?\u201d<\/p>\n

She only shook her head, barely moving, her lips pressed together as if saying anything else might destroy something.<\/p>\n

A nurse appeared in the doorway and quietly told me Carol needed to rest.<\/p>\n

I bent down, kissed my wife\u2019s forehead, and stepped into the hallway with my heart pounding against my ribs.<\/p>\n

Three days later, Carol was gone.<\/p>\n

The house on Maple Street felt hollow in a way I had never known a house could feel.<\/p>\n

Her reading glasses were still on the arm of the recliner.<\/p>\n

Her unfinished crossword remained on the kitchen table.<\/p>\n

But all I could hear was her final request.<\/p>\n

Find Anna.<\/p>\n

Anna had been my first love.<\/p>\n

In 1985, I had asked her to marry me.<\/p>\n

Her answer arrived in a letter.<\/p>\n

\u2018I can\u2019t follow you, Walt. Not with you moving away. Please don\u2019t come looking for me.\u2019<\/p>\n

For forty years, I had believed every word.<\/p>\n

For two weeks after Carol\u2019s funeral, I tried telling myself she had been confused by medication or half-dreaming when she asked me to find Anna.<\/p>\n

But every night, I heard the other part.<\/p>\n

\u2018Forgive me in advance.\u2019<\/p>\n

Forgive her for what?<\/p>\n

Eventually, I searched through old college groups until a former classmate gave me the number of Diane, one of Anna\u2019s closest friends from those years.<\/p>\n

The moment I mentioned Anna, Diane went silent.<\/p>\n

\u201cI have nothing to say to you about that.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then she hung up.<\/p>\n

A week later, she called me again.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnna\u2019s sister married a man from Pittsburgh.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know her name?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI remember the married name.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGive it to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Three phone calls later, a woman answered.<\/p>\n

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

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

Even after four decades, I recognized that voice.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnna? This is Walter.\u201d<\/p>\n

For several seconds, I heard nothing but breathing.<\/p>\n

Then she whispered, \u201cWalter. My God.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnna, could I come see you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAfter forty years?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know how that sounds. But Carol asked me to find you before she died. I need to understand why.\u201d<\/p>\n

Silence.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhenever you\u2019re comfortable.\u201d<\/p>\n

Another pause.<\/p>\n

\u201cSaturday.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u2014<\/p>\n

Saturday morning, I drove four hours to Pittsburgh with Carol\u2019s ring in my pocket.<\/p>\n

I remained outside Anna\u2019s house for nearly an hour before finally making myself knock.<\/p>\n

Then the door opened.<\/p>\n

Her hair was silver now, and soft lines surrounded her mouth, but her eyes were exactly as I remembered them.<\/p>\n

And somehow, they seemed familiar in another way too.<\/p>\n

I couldn\u2019t understand why.<\/p>\n

\u201cWalter.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnna. I\u2019m sorry to appear like this out of nowhere. My wife, Carol\u2026 she passed away a few weeks ago. Before she died, she asked me to find you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Something changed across Anna\u2019s face.<\/p>\n

Recognition.<\/p>\n

Sorrow.<\/p>\n

And a weary kind of understanding.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d she said quietly. \u201cI think I know why.\u201d<\/p>\n

She stepped aside.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome in, Walter. You\u2019d better sit down.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna poured two cups of coffee, her hands trembling slightly.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did Carol want me to know?\u201d<\/p>\n

She sat across from me.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat I never turned you down because you moved.\u201d<\/p>\n

My chest went cold.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen why?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour mother came to my apartment. Spring of 1985. She wore that gray coat with the fur collar. Do you remember it?\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cShe sat on my sofa and told me I was unsuitable. Wrong background. Wrong family. Wrong future for her son.\u201d<\/p>\n

I carefully set my mug down because my hand had begun to shake.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy mom said that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe said more than that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did she threaten you with?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe threatened to get Dad fired when my parents were already barely surviving. My sister was about to marry a good man, and Ruth threatened to destroy her reputation.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe couldn\u2019t have done that.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna held my gaze.<\/p>\n

\u201cCouldn\u2019t she?\u201d<\/p>\n

I had no answer.<\/p>\n

EVERYONE IN MILLFIELD LISTENED TO RUTH.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cYour mother had power,\u201d Anna said softly. \u201cAnd she used it on a twenty-year-old girl whose family had nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo the letter you sent me\u2014the one saying you couldn\u2019t handle the distance\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI wrote it that night. I cried the whole way through it.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared at the coffee between my hands.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happened afterward? Did you marry?\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna shook her head.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cChildren?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. There was never anyone else I could imagine that life with.\u201d<\/p>\n

Forty years suddenly seemed much longer.<\/p>\n

All that time, I had believed Anna simply hadn\u2019t loved me enough. \u201cWhy didn\u2019t you come to me? Even after you left?\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna lowered her gaze to her hands.<\/p>\n

\u201cI found out I was pregnant three weeks later.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared at her.
\n\"\"
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI was pregnant, Walter.\u201d<\/p>\n

The room seemed to move beneath my feet.<\/p>\n

A child.<\/p>\n

Mine and Anna\u2019s.<\/p>\n

For forty years, I had believed I\u2019d lost only her.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou were carrying MY CHILD?\u201d<\/p>\n

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

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

Anna turned away.<\/p>\n

\u201cI gave her up.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cI was twenty, alone, and terrified. Your mother had convinced me you didn\u2019t want me anymore. She said the baby would have a better life with a family who could give her what I couldn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you believed her?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t think I had another choice.\u201d<\/p>\n

My chest tightened.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere is she now?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n

I thought that was the revelation that would change everything.<\/p>\n

I had no idea Anna was only getting started.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou never tried to tell me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI tried. I went to your mother\u2019s house. I thought the baby might make her accept us and help me reach you.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cRuth wouldn\u2019t give me your number. She reminded me what would happen to my family if I contacted you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s why you disappeared?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2014and what she told me next.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cThat you\u2019d already moved on.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWith who?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCarol.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cYou knew about Carol?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOnly what Ruth told me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat we\u2019d already started something?\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe said you\u2019d chosen Carol before I\u2019d even left town.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut that wasn\u2019t true.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

Then Anna hesitated.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s more.\u201d<\/p>\n

My stomach tightened.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cCarol was there that day.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAt my mother\u2019s house?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. She\u2019d stopped by with a casserole. Ruth thought she\u2019d already left, but she was still in the parlor.\u201d<\/p>\n

I couldn\u2019t move.<\/p>\n

\u201cCarol heard what my mother said to you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEvery word.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow do you know?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause she told me. About fifteen years ago, she tracked me down through my sister and sent me a letter. I never answered.\u201d<\/p>\n

My throat tightened.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo she knew why you left.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cAND ALL THOSE YEARS, SHE WATCHED ME BELIEVE YOU\u2019D WALKED AWAY BECAUSE YOU DIDN\u2019T WANT ME.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna lowered her eyes.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cShe said nothing\u2026 and then she married me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve wondered for forty years whether she ever told you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe didn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

For a moment, I was unable to speak.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not telling you to hate her,\u201d Anna whispered. \u201cI\u2019m telling you because your wife sent you here, and I think she wanted you to finally know.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cAnna, did you ever try to find our daughter?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course I thought about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut did you look?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI couldn\u2019t. It was a private adoption. I didn\u2019t know the family\u2019s name, where they lived\u2014anything.\u201d<\/p>\n

And suddenly, something fell into place.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy mother arranged it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna frowned.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cIf anyone kept records, she did.\u201d<\/p>\n

I pushed back from the table.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think I know where to look.\u201d<\/p>\n

I rose so quickly that the chair scraped against the floor.<\/p>\n

\u201cWalter.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry. I have to go.\u201d<\/p>\n

One thought stayed with me throughout the entire drive home.<\/p>\n

Carol hadn\u2019t asked me to forgive my mother.<\/p>\n

She had asked me to forgive her.<\/p>\n

So what exactly had Carol done?<\/p>\n

\u2014<\/p>\n

By dawn, I was searching through my mother\u2019s attic.<\/p>\n

At the bottom of an old box, I discovered a shoebox sealed with tape.<\/p>\n

PRIVATE. DO NOT OPEN.<\/p>\n

Inside were yellowing letters exchanged with a woman named Marjorie.<\/p>\n

I read the first letter twice before understanding what it meant.<\/p>\n

\u2018Dear Ruth, the young woman arrived Tuesday. She is nearly six months along. She still asks whether Walter knows about the child. I assured her, as you instructed, that contacting him would only make matters worse.\u2019<\/p>\n

My hands began trembling.<\/p>\n

The next letter was dated four months later.<\/p>\n

\u2018The girl has finally signed the surrender papers. She remains convinced Walter has begun a new life and does not want to be contacted.\u2019<\/p>\n

I stopped breathing.<\/p>\n

But Anna wasn\u2019t the only person my mother had deceived.<\/p>\n

Another letter followed.<\/p>\n

\u2018A local couple has come forward for the private placement. Carol seems especially eager. I understand Walter has been told only that the birth mother requested a closed adoption. Discretion will be maintained as you requested.\u2019<\/p>\n

I sank against the attic wall.<\/p>\n

Rebecca.<\/p>\n

My daughter Rebecca.<\/p>\n

Anna\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n

That was why Anna\u2019s eyes had looked so familiar.<\/p>\n

Rebecca had Anna\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n

For all those years, I had looked into them without ever knowing where they came from.<\/p>\n

Then I discovered another envelope.<\/p>\n

The handwriting was more familiar to me than my own.<\/p>\n

Carol\u2019s.<\/p>\n

It was addressed to my mother.<\/p>\n

\u2018Ruth, I can\u2019t keep doing this. Walter still believes Anna left because she stopped loving him. I heard what you said to her that day, and I should have told him then. I didn\u2019t. Part of me was afraid that if he knew the truth, he\u2019d go after her.\u2019<\/p>\n

I had to stop reading.<\/p>\n

Then I continued.<\/p>\n

\u2018Now there\u2019s a baby involved. You keep telling me Anna has signed the papers and wants the child placed somewhere else, but that doesn\u2019t make what we did right. If Walter ever learns the truth, he\u2019ll never forgive either of us.\u2019<\/p>\n

Beneath Carol\u2019s letter were four words written in my mother\u2019s handwriting.<\/p>\n

\u2018Then make sure he doesn\u2019t.\u2019<\/p>\n

I couldn\u2019t bring myself to tell Anna over the phone.<\/p>\n

\u2014<\/p>\n

It was after eleven when I stood at her door again, the letters clutched in my hand.<\/p>\n

Anna opened it.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s alive,\u201d I said. \u201cI found our daughter.\u201d<\/p>\n

She froze.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou found her?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHer name is Rebecca.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRebecca?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy Rebecca. The daughter Carol and I adopted.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna covered her mouth.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh my God.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe has a good life.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFamily?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTwo boys.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tears filled Anna\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m a grandmother.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

She lowered herself onto the porch step and began to cry.<\/p>\n

I sat beside her until she eventually wiped her face.<\/p>\n

\u201cDoes she know about me?\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cAre you going to tell her?\u201d<\/p>\n

Rebecca had buried Carol only weeks earlier.<\/p>\n

Now I had to tell her that the woman she had known as her mother had kept the truth about her birth hidden for thirty-eight years.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know how.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna looked toward the letters.<\/p>\n

\u201cNeither did Carol, apparently.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat if it destroys everything Rebecca remembers about her?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWalter, your mother decided what I was allowed to know. Carol decided what you were allowed to know.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cAnd now I\u2019d be deciding for Rebecca.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u2014<\/p>\n

THE NEXT MORNING, I DROVE TO COLUMBUS AND PLACED THE LETTERS ON REBECCA\u2019S KITCHEN TABLE.<\/p>\n

\u201cDad, what is this?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSomething your mother should\u2019ve told us years ago.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUs?\u201d<\/p>\n

I took a breath.<\/p>\n

\u201cRebecca, my first love, Anna, is your biological mother. And I\u2019m your biological father.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cWhat are you talking about?\u201d\"\"<\/p>\n

\u201cRead the letters.\u201d<\/p>\n

By the second letter, her hands were trembling.<\/p>\n

\u201cMom knew?\u201d<\/p>\n

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

Rebecca wiped her eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cWas she trying to protect me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe at first. But after a while, I think she was protecting herself too.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid she love me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEvery single day.\u201d<\/p>\n

Rebecca remained quiet for a moment.<\/p>\n

\u201cDoes Anna know about me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe knows everything.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDoes she want to meet me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMore than anything.\u201d<\/p>\n

Rebecca swallowed.<\/p>\n

\u201cI want to meet her. Soon.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

She studied my face.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you okay with that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve had enough people deciding what\u2019s best for someone else.\u201d<\/p>\n

She reached across the table and took my hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo have I.\u201d<\/p>\n

For the first time since Carol died, I no longer felt like I was carrying her secret alone.<\/p>\n

There would still be pain ahead\u2014for Rebecca, for Anna, and for me.<\/p>\n

But at least now, that pain belonged to the truth.<\/p>\n

I still loved Carol.<\/p>\n

Thirty-six years of marriage didn\u2019t simply disappear because I finally discovered what she had hidden from me.<\/p>\n

But I would never mistake silence for protection again.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

MY WIFE WAS DYING WHEN SHE ASKED ME TO FIND ANNA\u2014the woman who had rejected my proposal forty years earlier. I kept that promise. But […]<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":21041,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-21040","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21040","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=21040"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21040\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":21042,"href":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21040\/revisions\/21042"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/21041"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=21040"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=21040"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=21040"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}