He was my father in law, and while he was one of a kind, he was an "Every dad" of his generation: a bachelor until he was 40, he was not known to spare the rod (or paddle) or spoil any child. He was politically incorrect, brash, occasionally crass, and worked his whole life in blue collar jobs to support his wife and 4 sons, who had arrived in rapid fire succession. His wife doted on him (though she was no Edith to his Archie: she both indulged and challenged him, and he reveled in both); his sons loved and respected him and his grandchildren adored him. He was opinionated and stubborn and bombastic and hilarious (often by accident) and he offended as often as he complimented. However, in his final days, words I would have never previously used to describe him were the ones that most often came to mind: grace and dignity. According to my mother in law, he became once again the man who had romanced her for 2 long years, all the way from Romania to Cleveland. He gave love freely and appreciated the many kindnesses of hospital and hospice staff, family and neighbors. He infused his long good bye with one last lesson for his family to appreciate the extraordinary in this ordinary life. So much could be written about this maddening, amazing, regular guy who was truly a father to me, but I think on this 2 year anniversary of his passing, his family's final words say it all: "He lived a good life, he loved his family and his Lord, and he will be missed. Well done, Mr. Wonderful."