Hello, my name is Stuart Morris, and I'm writing to you from the United Kingdom, where my sister Ashleigh, our family and I live. On October 12, 2022, we lost our father, Ronald Andrew "Andy" Morris, to VCP disease. Saying goodbye was tough. It was one of the hardest days of our lives.
Before telling you about our dad, I'd like to share two quick announcements:
In honor of our father, our family planned to start a Foundation, with all the proceeds raised going directly to aid the Cure VCP Disease organization in their efforts to find treatments and a cure for VCP disease. However, we decided to spare the expense and formality of a foundation and partner directly with the Cure VCP Disease organization. We are excited about our partnership!
We are launching our efforts by participating in the Manchester Marathon on April 16th. My cousin and I will be running the 26.2 - mile race. We will be wearing Cure VCP Disease promotional gear and hope to have your support with each mile. We plan on holding a metaphorical "banner" in our Dad's name whenever we raise awareness and funds for Cure VCP Disease.
Be sure to leave us a note to cheer us on. We’d welcome the chance to hear from you!
Please consider making a gift to honor our efforts and celebrate the life of our Dad and friend, Ronald Andrew "Andy" Morris.
We can't end VCP disease without your support.
Ronald Andrew "Andy" Morris
by: Stuart Morris & Ashleigh Hunt
On October 12, 2022, we lost our Father, Ronald Andrew Morris, who had VCP disease. We had a successful “celebration of life” (if there is such a thing) with many friends and family members attending to honor his life and share stories of happy times.
Allow me to share bits and pieces of our father’s life with you from memories shared at his service.
Dad Was A Fighter
During Dad’s 50s and 60s, He had an ongoing battle between his body and his mind. By appearance, you could see that he had become less able, but if you were lucky enough to have a conversation with him, you could see his mind and smile were the brightest in any room.
He was always determined and independent and wouldn’t let his condition define him or his life, and neither should we, his loved ones, as he was a man full to the brim of love and joy.
Initially, writing these words about my Dad and for him felt daunting, but he created so many beautiful memories I could write and talk about him for hours. Don’t worry; I am limiting what I write and hope you will enjoy our memories.
Dad made a huge impact on everyone he met. His family aside, many carriers would stay in touch with him, and they became friends, even bringing cake for him on birthdays. Asda delivery drivers would know him by name and let themselves in to deliver shopping goods. Even his Gardener liked to keep in touch.
Many have sent our family lovely messages in the days and weeks since his passing. These words repeatedly stood out… they were a testament to him and his character. I’d
like to outline some of these words today, as they perfectly describe who our Dad was.
Dad was fun and active.
He had a daft sense of humor, laughing endlessly at shows like The Vicar of Dibley,
Only Fools and Horses, Friends and Faulty Towers. In his youth, he loved going to
concerts, whether it was seeing Tears for Fears for £1.50 a ticket or watching Bruce
Springsteen and Eric Clapton with Mum in their twenties. He always filled the house
with music when we were growing up, whether it was when he was working in the
dining room blaring Pulp, Oasis, Fleetwood Mac, Coldplay, or Travis, amongst many
others, or singing as loud as he could in the shower before taking us to school.
Occasionally, while warming up the car for us on cold mornings, he’d make sure
to preset the radio to full volume and scare the life out of us by blaring Bryan Adams.
Dad was a lover of life and a thrill-seeker.
He was adventurous, taking on all sorts of different experiences, track racing in Aston Martins and a Lotus Elise, hot air balloon rides, white water rafting, off-roading, and countless water sports.
He introduced us kids to all of these activities and encouraged us to join in the fun. I especially remember these good times while we were vacationing in Portugal and Greece.
Dad was brave, strong, positive, resilient, and without complaints.
Dad faced adversities in his life, but he never created a fuss and always put the priority of others in front of his own needs.
He was set on fire by his brother at a young age and was even hit by a car but he survived them both. Dad stared fear straight in the eye and continued to bounce back from one tragedy to the next. He would always pick himself back up, brush himself off, and move forward with courage.
Dad was a true warrior.
In his later years, Dad would often be in pain or uncomfortable; however, you would never know it. He was very good at shielding his pain with his positive attitude. We never heard him complain, moan or groan.
Dad always looked on the bright side of every situation. His positivity is what allowed him to remain independent. He only accepted help when he absolutely needed it and would rather solve a problem his way rather than bother anyone else.
Dad was a hard worker and a generous giver.
He was extremely modest and never liked to take credit for the incredibly successful
career he built for himself and our family. Dad was humble and gracious.
His creative gifts in his career spilled over into many different outlets later in his life. Dad took a special interest in gardening, design, trading, poetry, learning languages, mastering chess, and delving into history.
His talent for literature shined when he gave a speech at my sister’s wedding. It was absolutely perfect. Dad beamed when reciting it, and our friends and family grasped at every word he spoke. He was truly awe-inspiring!
If you were lucky enough, on a birthday or an anniversary, you would get a poem from Dad that never failed to put a smile on your face. He also was known to give a beautifully designed wall hanging when you moved into a new home.
Dad always presented himself and his belongings impeccably well.
He sought excellence in everything he did and taught his children to seek the same. Whether it was keeping the garden pruned, shaping his beautiful mustache (that his brother still sports), or spending hours washing our cars every week.
My Mum often jokes that I was the only boy in Buckinghamshire to be driven around in a gleaming BMW. Dad drove me each morning at 7 am to fulfill my paper route.
Dad was passionate and strong-minded.
His passionate personality shined in all aspects of his life. Dad was a devoted family man and had a deep love for all of us. He also cared deeply about us as individuals and wanted to know our opinions and desires. Before any decision he made, he would welcome the chance to hear our opinions to make sure we were happy with it; no matter how big or small the decision was, he included us.
After he moved to a new home, it took him weeks to furnish it. He had ten websites bookmarked with various rugs. Another five were bookmarked for clocks, pillows, wall hangings, and desks… before he purchased anything, he wanted to hear our opinions and get our approval. While Dad loved hearing our opinions, it never failed to surprise us when our comments and ideas were ignored. Dad proceeded to order works of art that matched his favorite screen saver… and even ordered a suit of armor to hang alongside them.
Dad was kind, and his smile was contagious.
Dad was genuine and very kind. His bright smile spread across his entire face, and his joy was contagious. He passed on this trait to his granddaughter. His laugh was infectious. Dad was a joker until the very end. You’d think one of his last requests would have been more painkillers or something to help him be more comfortable… but no, it was an air freshener for the next time his neighbor in his ward went to use the bathroom.
Dad craved time with his family and made us a priority.
Dad was a family man. We celebrated countless holidays and enjoyed family BBQs and meals together. We had fun celebrating his 50th birthday on holiday with family and catching up with his brother. We enjoyed fish and chips and spent endless hours playing football in the garden with his son. Much to their disapproval, we dragged Mum and Ash to the cinema to see the latest mafia film. We also spent time discussing that week’s fantasy football transfers.
We are incredibly grateful that Dad was able to enjoy both of his children’s weddings and that he was able to spend precious time with his first granddaughter. They even formed a special hello head/handshake.
It didn’t matter what we were doing; as long as we were together, Dad was happy.
Dad always smiled in the face of adversity.
He took the positive side of situations and remained kind and supportive to everyone he met. He led by example.
I have visions of my Dad basking in the sun on Holiday, drinking a San Miguel at Karokee, and listening to his infamous rendition of Red Red very loud.
I am grateful that I was raised by a great man of honor. He was taken too soon by the horrific VCP disease.
This genetic disease is destructive, a slow killer, and robs you of joy. It's also prevalent in our family.
My family and I are committed to finding treatments and a cure for VCP disease and have partnered with the Cure VCP organization in the United States. We believe that together we can pull our resources toward producing cutting-edge research to eradicate this terrible disease.
Please donate TODAY in honor of Ronald Andrew "Andy" Morris and our journey to find a cure for VCP disease.
Your support is critical to finding a cure for VCP disease.
Yours in Hope,
Stuart Morris & Ashleigh Hunt
Son of a VCP patient, a brother, a husband, a father, a professional, an athlete, an advocate, and a fundraiser.