Dennis Trackwell was a thoughtful, kind, giving, caring, hilarious, and loving man. He had the type of laugh that would make you crack up even if you didn’t want to. He always saw the good in every situation and took life lessons as opportunities to learn.  He was always there to listen with an open mind and give sound advice when or if it was needed. He was a man that took great joy in the simple things in life – his faith, the love of his family, being around his family and friends, the beach, walking, beer, and dancing. There was never a time growing up that our family wasn’t dancing, whether it was in the living room, out on the deck, on vacation (we called those deck parties), cooking, etc. If there was an event and there was dancing, we were out on the dance floor even if no one else was. The phrase “Dance Like No One Is Watching” had to be based off him because he seriously did not care who was watching. Ever.

He loved and adored being a Papaw to his grandbabies. Sitting in his rocking chair rocking them to sleep was one of his most favorite times in the world. As they got older, he loved pushing them in their strollers, taking them for walks, going to the park, the zoo, doing anything and everything with them. They were his world! He also loved hanging out and being around his wife and four kids. He loved sharing old stories of when he grew up, hearing stories from his kids about how crazy he was as a dad, such as the times when he would go on a cleaning frenzy and all of a sudden your favorite toy or clothes/shoes would be in the middle of the room and you would be told if it wasn’t picked up in 5 minutes it was going in the trash. We knew he meant business! He did everything with us, whether it was riding bikes, sledding, riding roller coasters, or just talking with us, hanging out with us…..he was an amazing dad, and we miss him every single day.

He worked at Eli Lilly and Company for 40 years and was retiring in December 2006. That October he was hanging out at our sister Dawn’s pool on a day he had off and fell. He kept complaining about his rib hurting every time he would laugh. He kept telling us not to get him laughing because it would hurt when he did. We told him countless times to go to the doctor to get it checked out because it wasn’t normal, not even fathoming what we were about to embark. Not only did he have a broken rib, but along with that came a cancer diagnosis. Multiple Myeloma. Nothing we had ever heard of. We went to his retirement party at work, and he wanted us to keep his diagnosis a secret so while all his work friends kept asking him what he was going to do with all his time off, inside we were secretly screaming that he was going to be fighting cancer.

Our dad fought long and hard for 7 years. He underwent a stem cell transplant, and it successfully put his cancer into remission. It wasn’t all smooth sailing; he was in and out of the hospital multiple times with pneumonia, one time with chicken pox and was in quarantine. Fevers weren’t to be taken lightly with him, it was straight to the hospital when that would happen. He was stubborn at times and one time waited to go to the hospital and by the time he did, only had 10% kidney function. It was at that time that we found out his cancer had come back – with a vengeance. Typically, this cancer attacks the kidneys but didn’t the first time around, but the second time he ended up on dialysis. He was determined to get his kidney functioning back to normal, but that didn’t end up happening. He continued dialysis three times a week for the remainder of his life, and even though that zapped his energy, he never complained. If you would ask him how he was feeling, he always responded with “oh wonderful,” even though it was anything but that.

In June 2013, we received the news that no one wants to hear and that was our dad wasn’t responding to the treatments any longer and there wasn’t anything else that they could do. The timeframe they gave was 2-4 weeks, his doctor said because it was him and his attitude, she said he would probably be more like 4-6 weeks. Our dad passed away 8 weeks later, peacefully in his bed on August 1, 2013, surrounded by his wife, four children and his sister.

No one can prepare you for the loss of a parent, especially not one as great as ours. After his passing, it didn’t seem right to not honor him in some sort of way. On our dad’s first birthday since his passing, we put out a post on social media for everyone to play their favorite song, turn the music up loud and “Dance for Dennis.” The outpouring of love, the pictures and the videos we received of people doing just that – dancing for Dennis, was overwhelming. It became crystal clear how we could honor our dad – have a big party and call it “Dancing for Dennis.” None of us had ever ran a fundraiser before, but our dad would always ask us why we couldn’t do something. He would say other people can do it, why can’t you? And that’s what we did.

The first “Dancing for Dennis” took place, and it was nothing short of amazing. Once again, we had such an outpouring of love, kindness and generosity that helped our event become a success. We instantly knew that this was something we had to continue for as long as possible. For the last 10 years, we have been blessed with volunteers, donations, and support that we couldn’t have even dreamed about. We have been able to donate over $100,000 to Miles for Myeloma through the IU Simon Cancer Center. We were awarded the IU Spirit of Philanthropy certificate of recognition, as well as the Pamela K. Taylor Volunteer of the Year award.

We are excited and blessed to continue having our event to honor our dad. We are hopeful that we can still help other families fight this rare and vicious disease in a more personalized manner. Our dad loved to help people and that’s how we want to continue his legacy.

- Dennis’ Loved Ones