The Five Wishes of Mr. Murray McBride

by Joe Siple

But this here’s something I’ve learned in my life—what’s right and what’s legal aren’t always the same thing. And when put to it, a man ought to do what’s right. The law be damned.

But here’s the thing about loving someone—it makes you forget what “impossible” means.

“S, B, K,” Tiegan says. “Strong, brave, and kind. It’s kind of our motto now, mom says. And we say it to each other all the time.” “Hello and goodbye are meaningless,” Della says, pulling Tiegan close to her again. “SBK is a constant reminder, every time we greet each other, every time we say goodbye, it’s a reminder of how to live. It’s so much more than a greeting.”

I don’t seem to want to do anything else but be with him, despite his crude language and his disrespect. When he’s around, I could be sixty again, or thirty, or even a kid like him. It’s not until I’m alone that I realize how old and worn down I am. So I’d rather not be alone.

But I have to believe he’s doing everything he can to hang on. So I’ll do the same. For him. Because his wishes aren’t done.

“Without love, our lives would be nothing,”

“The world would be nothing. Without love, we might as well not even exist.”

“Love hurts sometimes, Father. Hurts like hell, and I’m not sorry to say that word. Hurts like hell and I don’t know if I can take it anymore.”

But now I see it. It’s because there are two hearts in each of us. The one that shows what we’re made of. How much we love and how well we live.

But there’s also the physical heart. The one that only has one job—to push blood through our bodies and keep us alive.