There are some conversations we put off because they feel too hard.
We tell ourselves there will be time. Time to talk about our wishes. Time to explain what matters to us. Time to have the practical conversations that sit uncomfortably alongside everyday life.
But recently, I was reminded that time is not something any of us can take for granted.
When I met Michele Polley, I expected to hear about organ donation. What I didn't expect was long after our chat ended, her words remained.
Michele lost her 20-year-old son, Aaron, every parent's worst nightmare. In the midst of overwhelming grief, she and her family were asked whether Aaron would want to donate his organs.
It is an almost unimaginable question to face.
But Michele didn't have to guess.
Aaron had spoken about it. He had made it clear that he wanted to be an organ donor.
Because of that decision - and because his family knew his wishes - four other people were given a second chance at life.
Michele described organ donation as a "light at the end of the tunnel". Not because it erased the pain. Not because it filled the space Aaron left behind. But because in the middle of profound loss, there was purpose. There was certainty. There was hope for other families.
Listening to Michele, I was struck by how different that moment could have been if Aaron hadn't had that conversation.
In Australia, most of us say we support organ donation. Many of us even register. But registration is only part of the story. At the most critical moment, families are still asked to confirm a loved one's wishes.
And if they don't know - if the conversation hasn't happened - they are left carrying not only grief, but doubt.
Michele told me that knowing Aaron's decision gave her clarity at a time when everything else felt chaotic. That clarity is a gift. It meant she could honour her son's wishes without hesitation. It meant his generosity could become someone else's survival.
Organ donation is not just a policy issue or a health statistic. It is deeply human. It is about families. It is about love. And it is about making an impossible moment just a little less uncertain.
We cannot control tragedy. But we can control whether the people we love know what we would want.
That conversation may feel uncomfortable. It may feel distant. But Michele's story is a powerful reminder that speaking openly can make all the difference.
If you believe in organ donation, don't just assume your family knows. Tell them. Make it clear. Give them the certainty that Michele had in the darkest moment of her life.
Because one day, that conversation could be the light at the end of someone else's tunnel.