Donald Lee Trgovich

Donald Lee Trgovich, 81, of Tucson, Arizona, passed away peacefully on Tuesday, August 26, probably while dreaming about a Chicago hotdog and a nice cold beer at a Cubs game. He is survived by his daughter Emily Trgovich, who he adored more than life itself; his grandchildren, Kingston, 15, and Kali, 7, who he correctly predicted would be the coolest kids ever; his son DJ, who he loved to watch baseball and football with and share long chats together under the Arizona sun; his son-in-law, Emily's partner Jason Welch (Go Duke! Ha ha!); and his beloved former wife, Kathleen Trgovich. He will be dearly missed by his dynamo sister, Mary Lou Zurawski, and caring brother, Frank Trgovich, as well as nephews Brian (Jeannie) Zurawski, Andrew (Melissa) Trgovich, Jeffrey (Monika) Trgovich, and Jason (Stephanie) Trgovich, and nieces Ann Marie Rhineberger and Marti Trgovich. He was greeted in heaven with cheers, hugs, and an invite to a poker game by his late brother, Robert Wayne Trgovich; his parents, Evelyn and Andrew Trgovich; and many aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends.

Born in East Chicago, Indiana, on December 15, 1943, Donald never met a chili burger he didn't like (extra onions, please), preferred his coffee black, and thoroughly enjoyed every McDonald's breakfast he ever ate. He appreciated a good chortle, liked writing in ALL CAPS, and usually replaced the word "the" with "da" —example, "Donald was da best."

Never one to skip a joke or fall for anyone's bull, he also bore more than a passing resemblance to Bill Murray. He would have been a hilarious lead in a comedic film, but his starring role was as the most awesome dad ever. His first priority was to be present for his family and give them da best life he could (dogs, swimming pool, and unconditional love included).

He lived most of the past five decades in Tucson in the beautiful desert, where he spent many evenings admiring the sunset and mountains, with a cigar and whiskey by the pool and Frank Sinatra crooning on the stereo. But he never quite lost his Chicago accent, and if he thought of a nickname for you as a kid, no matter how silly, it stuck. (An anonymous source tells us she was called Fart Wart well into her 40s.)

Most importantly, no matter who you were, he always recognized when someone needed a pick-me-up. Need a twenty? Sure. Shirt off his back? No problem. Advice? "Sit down and listen, yoose guys."

In his last days, he took solace in the sounds of Chaplain Linda Updike's piano playing, where he sang along to "You Are My Sunshine," "Take Me Out to the Ball Game," and "God Bless America." The family would also like to thank the staff at Fairmount in Tucson, who offered him comfort and support (and who put up with what even Donald would have admitted was a little bit of crankiness-hey, it happens to da best of us).

In conclusion, in the words of that great American, Andy Trgovich, 80-0-80.

Donald's family and friends will celebrate his life together this fall by drinking whiskey, eating chili burgers (extra onions), and blasting "My Way."