An email from Ticketmaster arrived, and for some reason I didn’t mark it as spam. It was the tickets Aaron had bought for us to Taylor Swift’s 1989 Tour, one of the last things he did on his deathbed. Let me repeat and clarify that: on his deathbed, my thirty-five-year-old husband used his mother’s American Express to purchase the first release of Taylor Swift tickets for a concert that would take place ten months after his eventual death. The tickets arrived, and they were very, very good tickets (thanks, Kimmer!). Taylor was a huge
