#JusJoJan26 | 18.01.2026

The word organ feels different now.

It’s no longer abstract,
no longer just biology in a book
or music filling a church.

It’s a kidney.
It’s waiting.
It’s a list with no dates,
no promises—
only hope folded carefully into each day.

This January marks six years
since my husband began haemodialysis.
Six years of machines and schedules,
of measured hours and borrowed time.
Six years of his body doing its best
with what it has.

An organ is not just a part.
It’s essential.
Quietly working.
Often unseen—
noticed only when it struggles.

An organ can also be sound—
keys and pipes, air and vibration—
music filling a space
where words fall short.

And sometimes, an organ is a gift.
A bridge between one life and another.
A second chance carried
by someone else’s generosity
and courage.

We wait—not passively,
but with gratitude already forming
for a stranger we may never meet.

In the meantime,
love becomes its own organ.
Filtering fear.
Circulating hope.
Keeping us going
when the waiting feels long.

💫Maggie

The Afterlove Voice 💫