{"id":10923,"date":"2026-08-15T00:12:50","date_gmt":"2026-08-15T00:12:50","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/?p=10923"},"modified":"2026-08-15T00:12:50","modified_gmt":"2026-08-15T00:12:50","slug":"my-wife-married-me-in-the-last-week-of-her-life-her-will-revealed-why-shed-insisted-on-the-ceremony","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/?p=10923","title":{"rendered":"My Wife Married Me in the Last Week of Her Life \u2013 Her Will Revealed Why She\u2019d Insisted on the Ceremony"},"content":{"rendered":"
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<\/h1>\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/header>\n
\n
<\/div>\n

A dying woman refused her boyfriend\u2019s proposals for years, then suddenly asked him to marry her days before her final surgery. Weeks after her death, a lawyer revealed the reason she had changed her mind. What had she planned for him?<\/p>\n

I knew Margaret was sick when we met and fell in love.<\/p>\n

I just never understood how bad it really was.<\/p>\n

She had a rare autoimmune disease that, at first, I didn\u2019t take seriously enough.<\/p>\n

We were 27.<\/p>\n

It was summer.<\/p>\n

People that young didn\u2019t die.<\/p>\n

At least, not in my world at the time.<\/p>\n

Margaret had a way of helping me believe that too.<\/p>\n

She joked about hospital gowns.<\/p>\n

She named her IV pole Stanley.<\/p>\n

She laughed at stupid things.<\/p>\n

Whenever nurses asked her to rate her pain from one to ten, she\u2019d say, \u201cEmotionally or physically?\u201d<\/p>\n

And when I started calling her \u201cMargarine\u201d after accidentally typing it in a text three weeks into dating, she pretended to hate it.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou realize margarine isn\u2019t even real butter?\u201d she complained.<\/p>\n

\u201cNeither is your attitude.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m seriously reconsidering this relationship.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019d miss me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUnfortunately.\u201d<\/p>\n

I loved her before I understood how frightened I was of losing her.<\/p>\n

As the months went by, Margaret got worse and worse.<\/p>\n

And I stayed by her side through all of it.<\/p>\n

I drove her to treatments.<\/p>\n

I sat beside her during appointments.<\/p>\n

I held her hand when she was scared.<\/p>\n

Eventually, hospital cafeterias became more familiar to me than restaurants.<\/p>\n

I learned which parking garage elevator was always broken.<\/p>\n

I learned how to sleep sitting upright.<\/p>\n

I learned that Margaret wanted silence when she was nauseated but conversation when she was in pain.<\/p>\n

And I proposed for the first time 18 months after we met.<\/p>\n

Nothing elaborate.<\/p>\n

We were eating Chinese takeout on my apartment floor because Margaret had been discharged that afternoon and didn\u2019t have the energy to sit at the table.<\/p>\n

I pulled out a ring.<\/p>\n

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

Then at me.<\/p>\n

Then she started crying.<\/p>\n

I thought that meant yes.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cNo,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

I actually laughed.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cI can\u2019t marry you,\u201d she cried.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can,\u201d I said. \u201cI checked. It\u2019s legal.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDaniel.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

She pushed the ring back toward me.<\/p>\n

\u201cI love you too much.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat is an extremely confusing reason to reject someone.\u201d<\/p>\n

She explained that she didn\u2019t want to make me a widower.<\/p>\n

More than that, she was terrified marrying her would somehow leave me buried under medical bills and debt after she was gone.<\/p>\n

I told her we\u2019d speak to lawyers.<\/p>\n

She refused.<\/p>\n

I proposed again six months later.<\/p>\n

No.<\/p>\n

Again on our third anniversary.<\/p>\n

No.<\/p>\n

Once, jokingly, in the frozen-food aisle of a grocery store.<\/p>\n

She threw a bag of peas at me.<\/p>\n

So eventually I stopped asking.<\/p>\n

Not because I stopped wanting her as my wife.<\/p>\n

Because loving Margaret meant learning that sometimes pushing wasn\u2019t devotion.<\/p>\n

Sometimes it was just pushing.<\/p>\n

By 31, our lives revolved around her illness.<\/p>\n

She had good months.<\/p>\n

Bad months.<\/p>\n

And then months when I stopped describing them at all.<\/p>\n

I reduced my hours at work.<\/p>\n

We canceled trips.<\/p>\n

I drained most of my savings without telling her.<\/p>\n

Not because she asked me to.<\/p>\n

Because there was always something.<\/p>\n

A medication insurance wouldn\u2019t fully cover.<\/p>\n

A hotel near a specialist.<\/p>\n

Transportation.<\/p>\n

Food.<\/p>\n

Lost work.<\/p>\n

I had once planned to use that money as a down payment on a house.<\/p>\n

Margaret knew that.<\/p>\n

She hated knowing it.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re spending your future on me,\u201d she said once.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re in my future.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know what I mean.\u201d<\/p>\n

I did.<\/p>\n

I just didn\u2019t want to.<\/p>\n

Then, four years after we met, doctors recommended surgery.<\/p>\n

It was complicated.<\/p>\n

Experimental wasn\u2019t quite the right word, but reassuring wasn\u2019t either.<\/p>\n

There was a chance it could dramatically improve her condition.<\/p>\n

There was also a chance her body wouldn\u2019t tolerate it.<\/p>\n

The week before the operation, I found her unusually quiet.<\/p>\n

I was sitting beside her hospital bed, peeling the label off a water bottle, when she reached for my hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cDaniel.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHmm?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMarry me.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked up.<\/p>\n

She was completely serious.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I got proposed to by a woman?\u201d<\/p>\n

She rolled her eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s your response?\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cProcess faster.\u201d<\/p>\n

I leaned closer.<\/p>\n

\u201cMargarine, I\u2019ve asked you approximately 400 times.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFive.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou counted?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cObviously.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

She looked down at our hands.<\/p>\n

\u201cLook,\u201d she told me, holding my hand. \u201cI might not make it out of this surgery. And if I don\u2019t, I want to die as your wife. Not your girlfriend.\u201d<\/p>\n

Something in me broke.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t say that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDaniel, I\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re coming out of surgery.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cProbably.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cBut if I don\u2019t\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

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

She squeezed my hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd if I do, we\u2019ll have gotten married anyway. Seems efficient.\u201d<\/p>\n

I laughed.<\/p>\n

Then I cried.<\/p>\n

So did she.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs that a yes?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve made me wait four years. I need time.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

I lasted three seconds.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

We threw the lamest, most beautiful hospital wedding imaginable.<\/p>\n

Our parents came.<\/p>\n

A few close friends showed up.<\/p>\n

Even a couple of doctors and nurses we\u2019d become friendly with over the years stood there with us.<\/p>\n

There were no fancy flowers.<\/p>\n

No ballroom.<\/p>\n

No first dance.<\/p>\n

One nurse found white ribbon in the gift shop and tied it around Margaret\u2019s bed rail.<\/p>\n

My mother brought a grocery-store cake that said, \u201cCONGRATULATIONS MARGARET & DANIEL\u201d in icing so bright it stained everyone\u2019s teeth blue.<\/p>\n

Margaret wore a simple white cardigan over her hospital gown.<\/p>\n

I wore the only suit I owned.<\/p>\n

When I saw her, I started crying before the ceremony even began.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, stop,\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re beautiful.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI have compression socks on.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cVery bridal.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShut up.\u201d<\/p>\n

We promised ourselves to each other in front of 20 people.<\/p>\n

When it was time for the rings, Margaret\u2019s hands were swollen from medication, so the nurse had helped us choose a slightly larger band.<\/p>\n

I slipped it onto her finger.<\/p>\n

She stared at it for a long time.<\/p>\n

Then she looked at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy husband.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy wife.\u201d<\/p>\n

She smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cMargarine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t ruin this.\u201d<\/p>\n

Everyone laughed.<\/p>\n

For maybe 20 minutes, she wasn\u2019t a patient.<\/p>\n

I wasn\u2019t a caregiver.<\/p>\n

We were newlyweds.<\/p>\n

That was all.<\/p>\n

Six days later, she went into surgery wearing that ring.<\/p>\n

I kissed her before they wheeled her away.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll see you afterward,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

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

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

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

Those were the last words we ever said to each other.<\/p>\n

The surgery didn\u2019t go the way we\u2019d prayed it would.<\/p>\n

There were complications.<\/p>\n

Then more complications.<\/p>\n

There are hours from that day I still can\u2019t reconstruct properly.<\/p>\n

A doctor speaking.<\/p>\n

Margaret\u2019s mother screaming.<\/p>\n

My father holding my shoulders.<\/p>\n

Someone putting water into my hand.<\/p>\n

I remember staring at a clock and wondering how it could keep moving.<\/p>\n

She was 31.<\/p>\n

She had been my wife for six days.<\/p>\n

Margaret was buried wearing our wedding ring.<\/p>\n

A few weeks passed.<\/p>\n

I barely remember them.<\/p>\n

People brought casseroles.<\/p>\n

I forgot to eat them.<\/p>\n

Friends called.<\/p>\n

I watched the phone ring.<\/p>\n

I slept on the couch because our bed smelled like her shampoo.<\/p>\n

It was hard.<\/p>\n

Then one afternoon, Margaret\u2019s family lawyer called me about a will she\u2019d written before she died.<\/p>\n

His name was Walter.<\/p>\n

I\u2019d met him once at her parents\u2019 house.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think you should sit down,\u201d an older gentleman with a slight Southern accent told me over the phone.<\/p>\n

So I obeyed.<\/p>\n

I mean, if a sad old lawyer tells you to sit down before reading your dead wife\u2019s will, you sit down.<\/p>\n

I perched on the edge of my kitchen counter, holding an unopened packet of instant ramen in one hand and my phone in the other.<\/p>\n

There was a pause on the line.<\/p>\n

Then the lawyer sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess it makes sense now why she wanted to marry you,\u201d he said with a sad little chuckle.<\/p>\n

My stomach tightened.<\/p>\n

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

I heard papers moving on his end of the call.<\/p>\n

Then he said quietly, \u201cHere\u2019s what she wrote.\u201d<\/p>\n

He cleared his throat.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018To my husband, Daniel, who spent years trying to give me more time when there was none left to give, I leave everything that remains of mine. And before he gets angry with me for keeping this from him, please tell him to keep reading.’\u201d<\/p>\n

I stood up.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cKeep listening.\u201d<\/p>\n

Walter explained something I hadn\u2019t known.<\/p>\n

Margaret\u2019s grandfather had created a family trust decades earlier.<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t enormous.<\/p>\n

But it wasn\u2019t small either.<\/p>\n

Margaret had inherited an interest in it when her father died.<\/p>\n

She had barely touched the money.<\/p>\n

I hadn\u2019t even known it existed.<\/p>\n

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

Walter hesitated.<\/p>\n

Then he told me about it.<\/p>\n

After taxes, existing distributions, and other obligations, Margaret\u2019s share and a spousal survivorship benefit came to a little over $400,000.<\/p>\n

I nearly dropped the phone.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cDaniel\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. That\u2019s impossible.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt isn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe didn\u2019t have $400,000.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot personally. Most of it remained in trust.\u201d<\/p>\n

My grief abruptly found room for anger.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe watched me empty my savings.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDaniel.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe watched me worry about rent.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cKeep listening.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI sold my car.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cHow could she\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause she couldn\u2019t simply access all of it.\u201d<\/p>\n

That stopped me.<\/p>\n

Walter explained that the trust had strict distribution rules.<\/p>\n

Margaret received limited payments for specific purposes, but the principal remained protected.<\/p>\n

Her medical expenses didn\u2019t qualify for unrestricted withdrawals.<\/p>\n

If she died unmarried, her remaining interest would revert to other beneficiaries in the family.<\/p>\n

But the trust included an old survivorship provision.<\/p>\n

A legal spouse could inherit her remaining share.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cSo she married me for the trust?\u201d<\/p>\n

Walter was quiet.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d he said finally. \u201cI think she married you because she loved you. But I think the trust explains why she finally allowed herself to.\u201d<\/p>\n

He resumed reading.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018You\u2019re angry now, aren\u2019t you?’\u201d<\/p>\n

I laughed once.<\/p>\n

A horrible little sound.<\/p>\n

Walter continued.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018I can see your face, Daniel. You\u2019re probably doing that thing where your jaw moves before you start arguing. Please don\u2019t argue with a dead woman. It\u2019s embarrassing for both of us.’\u201d<\/p>\n

I covered my mouth.<\/p>\n

That was Margaret. Completely.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018I didn\u2019t tell you about the trust because you would have done something stupid and noble. You would have tried to find a way to use it for another treatment. You would have spent another year fighting paperwork instead of sleeping. You would have turned every dollar into another way to keep me here.’\u201d<\/p>\n

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

She was right.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018And maybe I was selfish. I wanted one thing that my illness couldn\u2019t consume.’\u201d<\/p>\n

Walter paused.<\/p>\n

I could hear his voice tightening.<\/p>\n

Then he continued.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018You sold your car. You emptied the house fund. You turned down the promotion in Chicago because I couldn\u2019t move away from my doctors. You kept telling me none of that mattered because we\u2019d do those things later.’\u201d<\/p>\n

My forehead dropped into my hand.<\/p>\n

Chicago.<\/p>\n

I\u2019d forgotten about Chicago.<\/p>\n

It had been my dream job.<\/p>\n

I rejected it in less than an hour.<\/p>\n

Margaret cried for two days afterward.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018There is no later for me,’\u201d Walter read. \u201c\u2018But there is for you.’\u201d<\/p>\n

I started crying.<\/p>\n

Not quietly.<\/p>\n

The kind of crying that folds your body in half.<\/p>\n

Walter stopped.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you want me to continue?\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cAre you sure?\u201d<\/p>\n

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

The paper rustled.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018Buy the house.’\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201c\u2018Not some sensible condo you secretly hate. Buy the stupid old house with the porch you\u2019ve been talking about since we met. Fix the floors. Get the dog I said we couldn\u2019t have because I was allergic. Take the job if another one comes. Travel somewhere that doesn\u2019t have a hospital cafeteria.’\u201d<\/p>\n

I laughed through tears.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018And please eat something that isn\u2019t instant ramen.’\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked down.<\/p>\n

The packet was still in my hand.<\/p>\n

That nearly destroyed me.<\/p>\n

Walter laughed softly too.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe knew you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n

He read the final paragraph.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018I said no every time you proposed because I thought refusing was how I protected you. Then I realized I had spent years deciding what sacrifices you were allowed to make, just as you spent years deciding which sacrifices were worth making for me. We were both stubborn. You were just louder.’\u201d<\/p>\n

I wiped my face.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018So yes, I wanted to die as your wife. That part was true. It was the truest thing I\u2019ve ever wanted. But I also wanted my last decision to give something back to the man who gave me everything he could.’\u201d<\/p>\n

Walter\u2019s voice broke.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018Six days isn\u2019t much of a marriage, Daniel. But you were my family long before somebody signed a certificate saying so. Use what I left you to build the life I couldn\u2019t stay for. That\u2019s not abandoning me. That\u2019s taking me with you somewhere better.’\u201d<\/p>\n

Then came one final line.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018I love you. I\u2019m sorry. And yes, Margarine still isn\u2019t funny.’\u201d<\/p>\n

Walter stopped reading.<\/p>\n

Neither of us spoke for a while.<\/p>\n

Finally, he said, \u201cThere\u2019s more legal language, but that\u2019s the part she wanted you to hear.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

Then I threw it across the kitchen.<\/p>\n

Not because of the ramen.<\/p>\n

Because she had planned it.<\/p>\n

The appointment with Walter.<\/p>\n

The will.<\/p>\n

The marriage.<\/p>\n

She had been lying in a hospital bed preparing for a surgery that might kill her, and somehow she\u2019d still been thinking about whether I would ever buy a house.<\/p>\n

I was furious with her for days.<\/p>\n

Grief does strange things to anger.<\/p>\n

I yelled at her while driving.<\/p>\n

I argued with her in the shower.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou should\u2019ve told me!\u201d<\/p>\n

Silence.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t get to decide what\u2019s best for me!\u201d<\/p>\n

More silence.<\/p>\n

Then I\u2019d remember that she had said essentially the same thing about me.<\/p>\n

Eventually, I understood.<\/p>\n

Margaret hadn\u2019t hidden a fortune while I struggled.<\/p>\n

Most of that money had never been available to us.<\/p>\n

And the part that mattered only became mine because I became her husband.<\/p>\n

She hadn\u2019t married me to make me rich.<\/p>\n

She had married me because, for the first time, becoming my wife no longer felt to her like leaving me with a burden.<\/p>\n

It meant she could leave me with something else.<\/p>\n

A future.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t touch the money for almost a year.<\/p>\n

Then one Sunday, I drove past an old house for sale.<\/p>\n

It had peeling paint.<\/p>\n

Crooked shutters.<\/p>\n

And a ridiculous porch wrapping around the front.<\/p>\n

I pulled over.<\/p>\n

I could hear Margaret immediately.<\/p>\n

Absolutely not.<\/p>\n

Too much maintenance.<\/p>\n

But I still bought it three months later.<\/p>\n

I fixed the floors.<\/p>\n

I painted the kitchen.<\/p>\n

And eventually, I got the dog.<\/p>\n

A mutt from a shelter with one floppy ear who immediately destroyed a cushion Margaret would have loved.<\/p>\n

I named him Stanley.<\/p>\n

After her IV pole.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s been four years now.<\/p>\n

Her wedding ring sits beside mine in a small box in my bedroom.<\/p>\n

Sometimes people hear that Margaret and I were married for only six days and their faces change.<\/p>\n

They don\u2019t know what to say.<\/p>\n

But I do.<\/p>\n

We weren\u2019t together for six days.<\/p>\n

We were married for six days.<\/p>\n

There\u2019s a difference.<\/p>\n

The ceremony didn\u2019t create what we had.<\/p>\n

It simply gave Margaret one final way to name it.<\/p>\n

For years, I thought I was the one taking care of her.<\/p>\n

Driving.<\/p>\n

Waiting.<\/p>\n

Paying.<\/p>\n

Holding her hand.<\/p>\n

But that hospital wedding taught me something I didn\u2019t understand until Walter read her words aloud.<\/p>\n

Margaret had been taking care of me too.<\/p>\n

Even while dying.<\/p>\n

Even when I didn\u2019t recognize it.<\/p>\n

And maybe that\u2019s what still hurts most.<\/p>\n

The last thing my wife gave me wasn\u2019t $400,000.<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t a house.<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t even six days of being able to call her my wife.<\/p>\n

It was permission.<\/p>\n

Permission to stop measuring my love for her by how miserable I remained without her.<\/p>\n

Permission to have a future without pretending the future meant I\u2019d forgotten the past.<\/p>\n

I still talk to her sometimes.<\/p>\n

Usually when something goes wrong with the house.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou wanted me to buy this dump,\u201d I\u2019ll say while staring at a leaking faucet.<\/p>\n

And somewhere in my head, I can hear her answer.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, you wanted the stupid porch.\u201d<\/p>\n

She\u2019s right about that too.<\/p>\n

She usually was.<\/p>\n

So here\u2019s the real question: If someone who loves you spends their final days making sure you can still have a life after they\u2019re gone, is moving forward a way of leaving them behind\u2014or can it be the last promise you keep to them?<\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

A dying woman refused her boyfriend\u2019s proposals for years, then suddenly asked him to marry her days before her final surgery. Weeks after her death, a lawyer revealed the reason she had changed her mind. What had she planned for him? I knew Margaret was sick when we met and fell in love. I just…<\/p>\n

CONTINUE READING >>> “My Wife Married Me in the Last Week of Her Life \u2013 Her Will Revealed Why She\u2019d Insisted on the Ceremony”<\/span> »<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":10924,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10923","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10923","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=10923"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10923\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10925,"href":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10923\/revisions\/10925"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/10924"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=10923"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=10923"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=10923"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}