Keith Wolahan (Menzies, Liberal Party) Share this | Hansard source

In the gallery is a 3-year-old boy named Lucas. His head's popping up and down and he's wearing a checked shirt. He is son to dad, Jamie, who sits with him and served with me in Afghanistan. He is son to mum, Christina, and he will always be brother to Aria, who took her last breath in the arms of her mum one month ago, aged five. Speaker, I want to tell you about Aria. I want to tell you about the people who bought her precious time, I want to tell you that they did it by donating blood and plasma, and I want to plead with Australians to do it again and again.

Lucas, your dad spoke of the moment you were born. It is captured in a photo I hope you will cherish as a man. Maybe you are looking at it as you listen to this years from now. In it, you are all wrapped up, surrounded by your family, with Aria resting her gentle hand on your cheek. Wherever you are, look at that photo and know that you came into this world immediately loved. Know that you always will be.

Jamie, my friend, you said Aria was 'the most resilient, persistent, loving and caring little girl who showed strength and courage every day'. You said, 'She showed up and fought the fight.' You said this at her funeral, Jamie: 'Aria's impact in her cosmic scale short life was exactly the time she was prescribed. The task of being daughter, big sister, little cousin, best hips dancing, loving niece, artist, manager, cook, and the well deserved trending status of "sassy". She had a full life.'

In her short five years on Earth, Aria spent more than 500 days in hospital. It would have been much less time but for the generosity of people who never knew her. Aria was given blood products regularly, including platelets from plasma. Those products gave her more time to heal, prepared her for bone marrow transplants and, in the end, gave her life support. More than anything, they bought her time. They gave her one extra Christmas. She got to go to the zoo, the beach and a dance concert. She had her favourite food, trips to Poppy's and Uncle Ben's, and walks in Parramatta Park. We know giving blood saves lives, but many don't know it buys something just as precious—time between a child and their family. Aria knew this.

Jamie, one of your daddy-daughter dates saw you both visit Lifeblood. There, Aria saw where her blood bags came from and how they were made. One-third of Australians will need blood at some point in their life, but only one in 30 will donate. Those donations are needed for emergency surgery, road trauma, bleeding during childbirth and cancer treatment. One blood donation can save up to three lives, and plasma can be used in 18 different ways.

Aria's last days were spent at Bear Cottage in Manly, a wonderful facility that serves as a functioning hospital just for palliative care. It's a place that feels like home. Aria's final moments were on the leather couch in the TV room, where she was with her mum, her dad, Sarah and Robin, with Lucas running in the background. She took her final breath there. Her memory will live on in the words of her name, Aria James Zimmermann, now forever in Hansard, in the deeds of those who will, I hope, turn up to donate to save others, in the loving embrace of God, and in the memory of her family. Rest in peace, forever five: fighter, daughter, sister—Aria James Zimmermann.

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