Zak Edwards, a musician, entrepreneur, and much-loved husband, began experiencing unusual neurological symptoms in late 2019. After suffering a seizure at home in November, he was taken to Burton Hospital where a scan revealed a large brain tumour. A biopsy at Queen’s Medical Centre in Nottingham confirmed it was glioblastoma. Zak underwent chemotherapy, radiotherapy, and explored alternative treatments, but his health gradually declined. He died peacefully at home in July 2020, just three days before his 47th birthday. His family now honours his memory through an annual football fundraiser.
Here is Zak’s story, as told by his mum, Sylvia…
Zak was one of those people you never forget. Cheeky, magnetic, and endlessly kind. He had a rare gift for making people laugh and feel truly seen. A playgroup teacher once described him as having “a zest for life”, and that spirit stayed with him throughout his life. Quietly compassionate, he supported friends through heartbreaks and illnesses, always checking in, always showing up.
Born in July 1973, the eldest of our two boys, Zak grew up in a warm, loving home before earning a degree in Law and Politics and a Master’s in Business Studies. In 2015, he married Bianca, a creative and charismatic soul who had been by his side since the late 1990s. Together they were inseparable, devoted, joyful, and always surrounded by love.
Zak’s love of music ran deep. He formed his first band at 14, writing and performing heartfelt songs as frontman and lead guitarist. One song, written in memory of his grandfather, was later performed at Zak’s own funeral, a testament to the emotional depth of his lyrics and the legacy he left behind. Alongside music, he poured his energy into PREZZYBOX.COM, the family’s online gift business, which he founded and ran for two decades until we sold it. He was the visionary and the driving force behind it all, working closely with his brother Barney, his wife Bianca, his dad John, and me. His creativity, warmth and drive shaped everything he touched.
Everything changed in late 2019, when Zak began experiencing strange symptoms such as joint pains, stumbling and muddled words.
We thought it might be overexertion or fatigue, but when he struggled to tell his keys from his credit card, he saw a private neurologist through the business’s healthcare plan. The MRI scan was delayed, and before it could be rescheduled, Zak suffered a seizure at home in November. Bianca called an ambulance, and he was rushed to Burton Hospital where a scan revealed a large mass on his brain.
At Queen’s Medical Centre in Nottingham, a biopsy confirmed it was glioblastoma, a grade-4 aggressive and cancerous brain tumour with a prognosis of 12 to 18 months. Surgery wasn’t an option, and while the oncologist said it could be controlled, that promise sadly proved untrue. Zak approached it all with remarkable courage, insisting he would “sort it out”. He underwent chemotherapy and radiotherapy at Spire Hospital in Derby, continued treatment during the pandemic at a temporary site, and even tried dendritic cell therapy, a form of immunotherapy that uses specialised immune cells called dendritic cells to stimulate the body's immune system to fight cancer, through the company Immucura. But despite every effort, the tumour continued to progress.
Even as the disease took his strength and impacted his speech, Zak never gave up and focused on supporting others.
I remember one moment vividly. He was in hospital, walking with a stick by that point, and there was a man in the bed opposite who suddenly became unwell. Nurses quickly drew the curtains around him, and his wife stood outside, visibly distressed. Without hesitation, Zak walked over to her and began talking to her, offering comfort and reassurance. He stayed with her the whole time, keeping her company until the doctors finished attending to her husband. That was Zak, always thinking about someone else, no matter how difficult things were for him.
He continued to believe in his recovery. At the end of his radiotherapy, he rang the bell with such pride. It had taken every bit of strength he had left, but to him, it meant hope, progress, and the beginning of healing. He truly believed it signalled that he was cured.
But glioblastoma is cruel. By April 2020, Zak was sleeping most of the time. His energy was depleted, his speech had become affected, and his body grew weaker. In May, he suffered another major seizure, this time at home. Two wonderful paramedics came and stayed with us for three hours, offering comfort and help far beyond the call of duty. We were offered a hospice place, but due to COVID restrictions, we would only have been allowed to see him in the final days, wearing masks and full protective clothing. That felt unbearable so we made the decision to keep Zak at home where he would be surrounded by the people he loved.
John and I moved in with Zak and Bianca to support them in his final months. It was the hardest thing we’ve ever done, but I’m grateful we had that time together.
Bianca was extraordinary. The nurses said she could have been a professional carer, and she gave Zak everything he needed – dignity, tenderness, and constant love. In his final days, Zak died just three days before his 47th birthday peacefully in Bianca’s arms and with us by his side, surrounded by love. We spent the evening with him, lighting candles, saying goodbye, and holding him close. Friends came to see him, despite lockdown restrictions, and everyone who loved him had the chance to say farewell.
Zak’s friends have never stopped showing up. Even during the pandemic, people lined the streets for his funeral. At his 40th birthday, he’d asked everyone to dress as something beginning with “Z.” He came as “Zak, the King of Austrey,” and the name stuck. A lifelong Aston Villa fan, Zak’s photo appeared on the big screen at Villa Park alongside other supporters who had passed away, just before the final match of the season. He was also gifted a signed shirt by the team after he died, with his name and his favourite number, nine. That shirt still sits beside us when we watch matches. It’s a quiet reminder of him.
Zak always said he wanted to give back, inspired by the volunteers he saw in hospital. He didn’t get the chance so now we do it for him.
In 2024, we held our first memorial football match in his name. The second, held in June this year at the Austrey playing fields, raised more than £4,000 for Brain Tumour Research. Friends travelled from across the country to be there. The day was filled with football, food, laughter, and memories. The local pub hosted a barbecue, and we held a raffle and auction, with generous donations pouring in from all over.
We hope to make it an annual event so no one will forget The King of Austrey.
Sylvia Edwards
July 2025
One in three people in the UK knows someone affected by a brain tumour. This disease is indiscriminate; it can affect anyone at any age. What’s more, brain tumours continue to kill more children and adults under the age of 40 than any other cancer yet, to date, just 1% of the national spend on cancer research has been allocated to this devastating disease since records began in 2002.
Brain Tumour Research is determined to change this.
If you have been touched by Zak’s story, you may like to make a donation via www.braintumourresearch.org/donate or leave a gift in your will via www.braintumourresearch.org/legacy
Together we will find a cure.
