{"id":2084,"date":"2026-09-11T14:16:18","date_gmt":"2026-09-11T14:16:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/usastoryreader.online\/?p=2084"},"modified":"2026-09-11T14:16:18","modified_gmt":"2026-09-11T14:16:18","slug":"my-son-showed-up-to-his-fathers-funeral-wearing-a-womans-pink-dress-when-he-told-me-the-real-reason-i-dropped-to-my-knees-in-shock-5","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/usastoryreader.online\/?p=2084","title":{"rendered":"My Son Showed up to His Father\u2019s Funeral Wearing a Woman\u2019s Pink Dress \u2013 When He Told Me the Real Reason, I Dropped to My Knees in Shock #5"},"content":{"rendered":"
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My Son Showed up to His Father\u2019s Funeral Wearing a Woman\u2019s Pink Dress \u2013 When He Told Me the Real Reason, I Dropped to My Knees in Shock #5<\/h1>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The cardboard sympathy-card box was still in my hands when Daniel said, \u201cThat\u2019s what Dad said you\u2019d do.\u201d Richard had kept their final argument from me for four months. Now my son stood at his funeral in a faded pink dress, watching me organize everyone else\u2019s sorrow. Then he reached into the pocket.<\/p>\n

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By nine that morning, I had already corrected the spelling on one flower card, found an extra chair for Richard\u2019s elderly cousin, reminded the funeral director that my husband hated organ music, and answered the same question about the reception six times. \u201cTisha, sit down.\u201d My sister touched my elbow.<\/p>\n

I had already corrected the spelling on one flower card.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m fine.\u201d \u201cYou\u2019ve said that all morning.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause I am.\u201d<\/p>\n

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I wasn\u2019t. My husband was lying ten feet away in a polished wooden casket, and our only son still hadn\u2019t arrived. I checked the chapel doors again. Nothing.<\/p>\n

Our only son still hadn\u2019t arrived.<\/p>\n

*** Richard had fought cancer for 11 months. During the last three, he could barely lift his tea without both hands.<\/p>\n

Daniel should have been beside us through all of it.<\/p>\n

Instead, four months before Richard died, I came home from the pharmacy to find our wedding photograph shattered on the hallway floor.<\/p>\n

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Richard had fought cancer for 11 months.<\/p>\n

Daniel stood beside it with a suitcase. His face was wet with tears.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t believe you asked that of me!\u201d<\/p>\n

Richard was gripping the back of a chair for support. \u201cI have no other choice.\u201d<\/p>\n

His face was wet with tears.<\/p>\n

Daniel\u2019s face crumpled.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen you\u2019ve lost your son!\u201d<\/p>\n

Daniel walked out. The door slammed. I followed him onto the porch, but by the time I reached the sidewalk, his car was already pulling away.<\/p>\n

Daniel walked out.<\/p>\n

Daniel had already accepted a job three states away. Within a week, he was gone. When I went back inside, Richard was sitting on the stairs.<\/p>\n

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

He stared at the broken photograph. \u201cThis has to stay between Danny and me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Within a week, he was gone.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s my son too.\u201d \u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen tell me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Richard closed his eyes. \u201cPlease, Tisha. Don\u2019t ask me anything.\u201d *** Over the next four months, Daniel still answered when I called, but every conversation eventually reached the same wall. \u201cMom, I love you. But don\u2019t ask me to forgive Dad.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease, Tisha. Don\u2019t ask me anything.\u201d<\/p>\n

I hated Richard for refusing to explain.<\/p>\n

I hated Daniel for leaving.<\/p>\n

Mostly, I hated myself because while the two men I loved tore something apart between them, I had no idea what I was supposed to fix.<\/p>\n

I hated Richard for refusing to explain.<\/p>\n

And fixing things was usually the one thing I knew how to do. *** A rustle moved through the chapel. I looked up. The doors had opened.<\/p>\n

Daniel stood there.<\/p>\n

For half a second, all I saw was my son.<\/p>\n

A rustle moved through the chapel.<\/p>\n

Then I saw what he was wearing. Pink. Not a pink shirt. Not some strange suit. A dress. A woman\u2019s faded pink dress that fell awkwardly below his knees, stretched across his shoulders, and looked even more absurd above his black dress shoes.<\/p>\n

Then I saw what he was wearing.<\/p>\n

Whispers moved through the room. Someone behind me gasped. My face went hot.<\/p>\n

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

He looked at me. His eyes were swollen. I hurried down the aisle. \u201cDanny, what are you doing?\u201d He didn\u2019t answer.<\/p>\n

\u201cDanny, what are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy are you dressed like that at your father\u2019s funeral?\u201d He stared at the casket for a second. Then he walked past me. Straight to Richard. Every irritated word waiting in my throat disappeared. Daniel put both hands on the casket.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy are you dressed like that at your father\u2019s funeral?\u201d<\/p>\n

His shoulders folded. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Dad. I\u2019m sorry I didn\u2019t come sooner.\u201d He bent over the casket and cried with a kind of helplessness I hadn\u2019t seen since he was a child.<\/p>\n

Nobody whispered anymore.<\/p>\n

I stood behind him, stunned.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, Dad. I\u2019m sorry I didn\u2019t come sooner.\u201d<\/p>\n

Whatever the dress meant, it wasn\u2019t mockery. *** During the service, Daniel sat two seats away from me.<\/p>\n

I kept glancing at the dress.<\/p>\n

Something about it bothered me beyond the obvious.<\/p>\n

Whatever the dress meant, it wasn\u2019t mockery.<\/p>\n

The color. The little fabric-covered buttons.<\/p>\n

A tiny snag near the waist.<\/p>\n

I knew that dress.<\/p>\n

But grief had turned my thoughts into loose papers blowing around a room. Every time I almost caught the memory, it slipped away.<\/p>\n

Grief had turned my thoughts into loose papers blowing around a room.<\/p>\n

Afterward, people surrounded me. \u201cI\u2019m so sorry, Tisha.\u201d \u201cRichard was a good man.\u201d \u201cPlease call if you need anything.\u201d I thanked everyone. Found somebody\u2019s missing coat. Told the caterer where to put the coffee.<\/p>\n

\u201cRichard was a good man.\u201d<\/p>\n

Carried a vase toward the reception room.<\/p>\n

\u201cTisha?\u201d<\/p>\n

I turned. Richard\u2019s sister was holding an empty box.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere should these sympathy cards go?\u201d \u201cOn the table beside the guest book. No, wait, people will spill coffee there. Give them to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere should these sympathy cards go?\u201d<\/p>\n

I reached for the box. \u201cMom.\u201d Daniel stood behind her.<\/p>\n

\u201cGive me five minutes, Danny.\u201d<\/p>\n

His face went blank, like a shutter closing. \u201cWhat?\u201d \u201cI need to finish this.\u201d He stared at the box in my arms.<\/p>\n

\u201cI need to finish this.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then quietly said, \u201cThat\u2019s what Dad said you\u2019d do.\u201d My fingers tightened around the cardboard.<\/p>\n

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

Daniel looked around. \u201cCan we go somewhere private?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDanny\u2026\u201d \u201cPlease, Mom.\u201d Something in his face stopped me.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s what Dad said you\u2019d do.\u201d<\/p>\n

I handed the box back.<\/p>\n

\u201cPut them anywhere.\u201d<\/p>\n

Richard\u2019s sister blinked. I didn\u2019t care. *** Daniel led me into a small room behind the chapel. The moment the door closed, I pointed at the dress. \u201cStart explaining.\u201d<\/p>\n

The moment the door closed, I pointed at the dress.<\/p>\n

He looked down at himself.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know how it looks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI sincerely doubt that, Danny.\u201d A tiny, miserable laugh escaped him. Then he reached into the pocket.<\/p>\n

\u201cMom, Dad wanted you to have something.\u201d My anger vanished.<\/p>\n

\u201cMom, Dad wanted you to have something.\u201d<\/p>\n

Daniel pulled out a small object wrapped in white tissue. \u201cHe told me you were supposed to get it after he died.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou said you didn\u2019t promise him anything.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t.\u201d Daniel unfolded the tissue. A single pink earring lay in his palm.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe told me you were supposed to get it after he died.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cheap metal. One fake stone was missing. The hook bent slightly out of shape. I knew it. My hand closed around the back of the chair. I stared at the earring.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cWhat?\u201d \u201cWhere did he get that?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cMom\u2026\u201d \u201cWhere?\u201d Daniel crouched in front of me.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe kept it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tears flooded my eyes, stinging hot. That earring had disappeared more than 30 years ago. Before Daniel. Before mortgages.<\/p>\n

That earring had disappeared more than 30 years ago.<\/p>\n

Before cancer medication lined our kitchen counter. Before I became the person everybody called when something needed remembering. *** I was 23. Richard and I were dating.<\/p>\n

I\u2019d worn that pink dress to a cheap little restaurant where the owner offered free dessert to anyone brave enough to dance when an old song came on.<\/p>\n

I became the person everybody called when something needed remembering.<\/p>\n

Richard refused. Naturally, I stood up. \u201cTisha, sit down.\u201d \u201cAbsolutely not.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere are people eating.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey\u2019ll survive.\u201d I danced between tables badly enough to make strangers clap. Richard covered his face. Later, outside, he tugged at my dress.<\/p>\n

I danced between tables badly enough to make strangers clap.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat thing is dangerous.\u201d \u201cThe dress?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe woman in it.\u201d<\/p>\n

I laughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cJealous because I wear pink better than you.\u201d Somewhere between the restaurant and home, I lost one earring. I hadn\u2019t thought about it in years.<\/p>\n

\u201cJealous because I wear pink better than you.\u201d<\/p>\n

*** Daniel watched my face.<\/p>\n

\u201cDad told me about that night.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked at the pink fabric stretched over my son\u2019s knees. \u201cThis is\u2026mine.\u201d He nodded. \u201cWhere was it?\u201d I asked. \u201cIn a box.\u201d \u201cWhat box?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is\u2026mine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDad found it in the attic when he was going through old stuff.\u201d I touched the dress. Richard had kept it.<\/p>\n

The earring too. All these years.<\/p>\n

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

Daniel swallowed. \u201cThat\u2019s what we fought about.\u201d My head snapped up. \u201cTell me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Richard had kept it.<\/p>\n

He sat on the floor across from me, still wearing my ridiculous old dress. \u201cFour months ago, Dad called me over. He could barely walk that week, remember?\u201d I did. \u201cHe asked me to bring down a box from the attic. I thought it was insurance papers or something.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe asked me to bring down a box from the attic.\u201d<\/p>\n

Daniel looked at the earring.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen he pulled this dress out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did he say?\u201d Daniel rubbed both palms against his knees.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe asked me a question.\u201d \u201cWhat question?\u201d His eyes lifted to mine. \u201cHe asked when the last time was that you did something just because you wanted to.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe asked me a question.\u201d<\/p>\n

My voice completely failed me. Daniel continued, \u201cI told him I didn\u2019t know.\u201d \u201cThat\u2019s ridiculous.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs it?\u201d<\/p>\n

I bristled. \u201cI do things I want.\u201d \u201cLike what?\u201d \u201cI\u2026\u201d The answer should have been easy. It wasn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

The answer should have been easy.<\/p>\n

*** Daniel looked away first.<\/p>\n

\u201cDad couldn\u2019t answer either.\u201d<\/p>\n

I tugged at my collar. \u201cHe started talking about vacations,\u201d Daniel recalled . \u201cHe said every vacation we\u2019d ever taken was somewhere he wanted to go, somewhere I wanted to go, or somewhere that worked with school.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe started talking about vacations.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFamilies compromise,\u201d I said. \u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe was sick, Danny. He was emotional.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI agree.\u201d \u201cThen what?\u201d Daniel braced himself. \u201cHe said your whole life had become lists.\u201d I stared at him. \u201cWhat does that mean?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe said your whole life had become lists.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGrocery lists. Medication lists. Things I needed in college. Things Dad needed for treatment. People\u2019s birthdays. Appointments.\u201d He rubbed his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe said he couldn\u2019t remember the last time he\u2019d asked what you wanted without already giving you choices.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe said he couldn\u2019t remember the last time he\u2019d asked what you wanted.\u201d<\/p>\n

My chair scraped backward as I stood. \u201cYour father was dying. He didn\u2019t need to spend his last months inventing reasons to feel guilty.\u201d Daniel stood too.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe wasn\u2019t asking me to make him feel better.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen what did he want?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe wasn\u2019t asking me to make him feel better.\u201d<\/p>\n

Daniel went silent. There it was again. The silence that had swallowed four months of my son\u2019s life.<\/p>\n

\u201cDanny.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe wanted me to give you the dress after he died.\u201d \u201cThat\u2019s all?\u201d \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe wanted me to give you the dress after he died.\u201d<\/p>\n

His eyes filled. \u201cHe wanted me to turn down my new job, move back here after he was gone, and make sure you didn\u2019t spend the rest of your life caring for everyone except yourself.\u201d I stared at him. \u201cHe asked you to give up your move?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe wanted me to turn down my new job.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe asked me to become your new supervisor. Call every day. Make sure you ate. Choose where you traveled. Decide when you\u2019d helped other people enough.\u201d My knees hit the carpet before I realized I\u2019d moved.<\/p>\n

Daniel dropped beside me.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s why we fought, Mom.\u201d<\/p>\n

My knees hit the carpet before I realized I\u2019d moved.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe told me you were going to tell everybody you were fine,\u201d he added. \u201cThat you\u2019d organize his funeral, feed everyone afterward, answer every phone call, clean the house, and make yourself useful until nobody noticed you were falling apart.\u201d<\/p>\n

I thought about the sympathy-card box I\u2019d nearly carried out of the room five minutes earlier.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe told me you were going to tell everybody you were fine.\u201d<\/p>\n

Daniel saw the recognition on my face. \u201cThat\u2019s why I got angry,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut why leave?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause he kept saying, \u2018Somebody has to make sure your mother is okay.’\u201d Daniel\u2019s voice rose. \u201cAnd I said, \u2018Why don\u2019t you tell Mom this yourself?’\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSomebody has to make sure your mother is okay.\u201d<\/p>\n

I pressed one hand against the carpet.<\/p>\n

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

Daniel looked at me. \u201cHe said you were carrying enough.\u201d I closed my eyes. Of course he did. Richard had said those words hundreds of times.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe said you were carrying enough.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t tell Mom yet. She\u2019s carrying enough.\u201d \u201cI\u2019ll handle it. Tisha has enough going on.\u201d \u201cLet her sleep. She carries enough.\u201d Once, I\u2019d thought those words were love. Maybe they were. But suddenly I heard something else inside them too. A decision. Made for me.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll handle it. Tisha has enough going on.\u201d<\/p>\n

*** Daniel\u2019s voice dropped. \u201cI told him he was doing it again.\u201d I opened my eyes. \u201cDoing what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDeciding what you could handle without asking you.\u201d<\/p>\n

He wiped his cheek.<\/p>\n

\u201cDad got angry.\u201d \u201cWhat did he say?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDad got angry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe said he was dying and didn\u2019t have time to argue.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

Daniel looked toward the door.<\/p>\n

\u201cI told him if he wanted you to have your own life so badly, he could start by letting you have your own answers.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe said he was dying and didn\u2019t have time to argue.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then Daniel looked down at the pink dress.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd that\u2019s when everything got worse.\u201d<\/p>\n

I waited. \u201cI told him I loved you, Mom\u2026 but I wasn\u2019t giving up my future to manage yours. He asked me to promise anyway.\u201d \u201cAnd that\u2019s why you left?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI told him I loved you, Mom\u2026 but I wasn\u2019t giving up my future to manage yours.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI was angry. And I thought if I stayed, he\u2019d keep making me responsible for fixing something he should\u2019ve talked to you about himself.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked toward the chapel door. Richard had finally noticed me disappearing inside our family.<\/p>\n

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

And somehow, even then, he\u2019d tried to solve it without asking me.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo why wear the dress?\u201d<\/p>\n

Daniel gave a miserable little shrug. \u201cAfter Dad died, I almost didn\u2019t come. Then I remembered what he said you\u2019d do today.\u201d My hand stopped on the pink fabric. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAfter Dad died, I almost didn\u2019t come.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOrganize everything. Comfort everybody. Make sure everybody ate.\u201d I glanced toward the reception room. Daniel gave me a sad smile.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe was right.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then he tugged awkwardly at the pink skirt.<\/p>\n

\u201cI figured there was one thing you couldn\u2019t organize your way around.\u201d<\/p>\n

Daniel gave me a sad smile.<\/p>\n

Despite myself, I laughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou walking into your father\u2019s funeral dressed like me at 23?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cExactly,\u201d he said. My laughter collapsed into tears. Daniel knelt beside me. \u201cI\u2019m sorry I stayed away, Mom.\u201d \u201cI\u2019m angry you did. But I understand why.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry I stayed away, Mom.\u201d<\/p>\n

He nodded. Then, very quietly, he said, \u201cI knew all Dad\u2019s stories.\u201d He looked down.<\/p>\n

\u201cI knew your passwords. I didn\u2019t know if you still danced, Mom.\u201d<\/p>\n

Because I had made it easy.<\/p>\n

\u201cI knew all Dad\u2019s stories.\u201d<\/p>\n

I remembered birthdays before anyone asked. Fixed problems before anyone noticed them. Said \u201cwhatever you want\u201d so often that eventually nobody needed to wonder what I wanted. \u201cSometimes,\u201d I whispered, \u201cit was easier to do everything myself than find out whether anybody else noticed.\u201d<\/p>\n

I remembered birthdays before anyone asked.<\/p>\n

Daniel took my hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you still dance?\u201d<\/p>\n

I almost said I hadn\u2019t had time. Instead, I thought about it. \u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d He didn\u2019t suggest lessons. Didn\u2019t make a plan. He just said, \u201cOkay.\u201d<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t suggest lessons.<\/p>\n

*** That evening, funeral dishes covered my kitchen. I reached automatically for them.<\/p>\n

Then stopped. \u201cLeave them,\u201d I whispered to myself. Daniel stared. \u201cThey\u2019ll be disgusting tomorrow.\u201d \u201cThen tomorrow can complain.\u201d He laughed. The pink dress hung over a chair.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen tomorrow can complain.\u201d<\/p>\n

A little later, Daniel opened the takeout app.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you want for dinner?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhatever you\u2026\u201d I stopped. He waited. No suggestions. No rescue. I looked at him. \u201cChinese.\u201d Daniel grimaced. \u201cI hate Chinese.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you want for dinner?\u201d<\/p>\n

I raised an eyebrow. He sighed. \u201cChinese it is.\u201d For once, the dishes stayed in the sink. The pink dress stayed where I could see it. Daniel complained about the egg rolls while I ate exactly what I\u2019d wanted.<\/p>\n

The pink dress stayed where I could see it.<\/p>\n

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My Son Showed up to His Father\u2019s Funeral Wearing a Woman\u2019s Pink Dress \u2013 When He Told Me the Real Reason, I Dropped to My Knees in Shock #5 The … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1000,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13,12,1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2084","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-news","category-story","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/usastoryreader.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2084","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/usastoryreader.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/usastoryreader.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/usastoryreader.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/usastoryreader.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2084"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/usastoryreader.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2084\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2085,"href":"https:\/\/usastoryreader.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2084\/revisions\/2085"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/usastoryreader.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/1000"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/usastoryreader.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2084"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/usastoryreader.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2084"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/usastoryreader.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2084"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}