My late husband’s legacy lives on in my children

A family milestone reminds this columnist of her spouse's many contributions

Jaime Christmas avatar

by Jaime Christmas |

Share this article:

Share article via email
main graphic for the column

December is a month of university graduation here in New Zealand. All the hard work, blood, sweat, and tears conclude in a cacophony of salutations and shouts of joy from family members.

A mother and son embrace under a tree during a college graduation ceremony. The mother is holding a bouquet of flowers while the son, dressed in cap and gown, holds his diploma.

Jaime Christmas celebrates with her son Joshua at his college graduation ceremony this month. (Courtesy of Jaime Christmas)

The emotions are a mix of gladness, pride, accomplishment, and even sadness, knowing that everyone will part ways from the fellowship that has banded them together throughout the education journey. Their experiences, from the nervous first day to the triumphant last, are a testament to their resilience and determination.

I’m blessed to have seen two of my children walk the stage to accept their degrees. These are two humans who inspire me to do better as a person and a mother. They’re two young adults who, at the onset of their university journey, were adolescents.

Their career paths were much influenced by their late father, Aubrey, who was a passionate technology and management consultant. His love for problem-solving and innovation has left a lasting impact on our son Joshua’s vocation. At the same time, Aubrey’s debilitating health condition from amyloidosis gave life to our daughter Naomi’s decision to be a chiropractor.

Aubrey was diagnosed with hereditary ATTR amyloidosis in 2013. Throughout his illness, our four children embarked on a journey of courage and strength. Our eldest was only 16 years old, and our youngest was 11. To be told that their father had an incurable condition while composing a narrative that exudes hope for a future treatment opportunity was not easy, especially when Aubrey and I knew deep in our hearts that this hope may never come to fruition.

A woman in a dark dress and white shoes stands in front a stone building aside a taller woman in graduation garb. Yellow flowers are on the concrete behind her.

Jaime Christmas and her daughter Naomi pose for a happy college graduation photo this month. (Courtesy of Jaime Christmas)

If I could turn back time, I’d be more vigilant about noticing their worry and trepidation about Aubrey. At that time, mitigating my own feelings and trying to figure out situations brought on by his illness took over much of my being. I didn’t know how to help my children deal with the changes they saw happening in their father and in our lives.

To a large extent, the four had to develop during part of their formative years without much hand-holding from me or Aubrey. They had to grow up almost overnight, not just intellectually but also emotionally and cognitively, while navigating the complex emotions that come with a parent’s illness.

As I watched Joshua and Naomi graduate, I knew that they had to work extra hard to achieve the degree in their hands. My pride as a mother comes not only from their academic achievement, but also from being the mother of four people who are determined and outstanding in character.

It is indeed a testimony to the legacy Aubrey has left behind.


Note: FAP News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of FAP News Today or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to familial amyloid polyneuropathy.

Leave a comment

Fill in the required fields to post. Your email address will not be published.