Our Own Version Of Cheers Revisted
February 26, 2026
In the vast wasteland of Bucks County Tavern and Pub scene, there are diamonds in the rough that give you that Cheers feeling of inclusion.
My last few years as a chef have been mainly focused on upscale tavern cuisine. Simple, home-cooked meals, elevated but still approachable to the working class folks that keep these places humming.
We’ve tried a number of places to extract those feelings of inclusion and community. My previous employment at The Farmhouse Tavern comes to mind. Unfortunately due to poor management and unsavory business practices out of my control, this place is no longer an option for our dining needs.
We ventured into a local tavern just up the hill from our home called The Gardenville Hotel. Not a hotel anymore but it is an historic tavern dating all the way back to the Civil War, steeped in history.
We love connecting with local patrons. We tried this in Cincinnati at a place called The Friendly Stop in Glendale Ohio. Great food but friendly wasn’t on the menu. We literally felt invisible everytime we went in. Check please!
We initially went for drinks at The Gardenville. I’ve always been skeptical of pub food establishments. I always compared their food with mine and my wife always complained that she preferred my food over anywhere we ate. Not to sound ego centric but so did I.
We started going more frequently to Gardenville. It’s cozy, welcoming and the staff is always really attentive and seemed to love working there.
We noticed everyone ate when sitting in the bar section of the Hotel. It’s a small, funky space replete with deer heads, odd decorations and a comfortable seating area. Perfect for what we were looking for.
They have a decent tap list, a great to go beer selection and a well rounded food menu. We decided to try some of their offerings. We ended up being one of their biggest fans. Really good burgers, fish and chips and great turkey dinners.
Our wallets weren’t happy because I constantly drug my wife there because the social scene keeps us in a positive light being stuck in the middle of nowhere.
No one screams our name when we come in but they know what we drink, and are always happy to strike up a spirited conversation with us. It definitely makes us feel welcomed and that’s really important during these trying times.
The Final Chapter
December 30, 2025
My mother was interred today joining my father. I wasn’t able to be present unfortunately having to head back to Pennsylvania to help my wife with her own ailing mother.
We created a shrine in her memory today. It’s conjured up many different feelings. Sadness, joy, frustration, regret and anger.
My mother was a complex person. Her trajectory in life was also complex. I’ve struggled with grief over the last couple of weeks. It’s been heart wrenching being the one tasked with closing down all her accounts.
Receiving her death certificate was a gut punch. It brought her death to the surface. It’s left me with a huge hole in my heart that can never be filled. I had so many questions I still wanted to ask her about her life and family which the more I’ve learned recently about her extended family fascinated me and I wanted more. Unfortunately that will never happen and it hurts. A lot.
My mom struggled in recent years. Personal issues with spending too much, hoarding and withdrawing from society. It was a difficult time for all of us. You can only help someone to the point where you realize it’s actually not helping anymore.
I lost contact with my mother for several years. Since my father passed fourteen years ago, her ability to stay balanced became more and more chaotic. Bipolar disorder is dreadful and can totally derail your sense of stability. I’m seeing it now with my brother.
I was able to repair my relationship with my mom. Her decline actually brought our family together. It’s uncanny how much influence my mother had over us all, even during the times we despised her. She could spin a fascinating yarn then quickly insult you to the point you just sat there laughing in disbelief.
One of the most sadly hilarious situations in years was at their house on Greenlee ave in St.Bernard. My father was dying from bladder cancer and his sister came in from Arizona to pray over him. She was a Catholic Evangelical who was in a sect that spoke in tongues. Yes, these people do indeed exist. In the room was my father, my aunt Mary, my slumped over mother, my brother Jon-Paul and the cable guy trying to fix their satellite dish reception.
I’m sitting on the couch, my mother is filling the room with cigarette smoke and my aunt is rambling on speaking in tongues over my dad while the repair guy is using the remote to channel surf.
My brother and I were texting back and forth on the absurdity we were witnessing and I texted “the only thing missing here is a guy in a Hitler uniform and a gorilla eating spaghetti.” They all wondered why we were both laughing. I love inside jokes.
Even during death, I can find a way to lighten up the mood because life is fucking hard. I know personally. Heart issues, cancer, burying deep down unprocessed grief, being verbally abused by my mother-in-law. The full gambit dressed up like a double barreled shotgun pointing at my head. I made it through the other side so far but there’s more work to do.
Having to deal with my mothers personal estate or what remained of it has been hard. I had no experience in what I was doing including cremation, certificates, internment etc. I got all these tasks accomplished but I could have used my brothers help. He’s vanished.
Another family member struggling with bipolar disorder but refuses to acknowledge it. He’s actually embraced it and has weaponized it to emotionally attack family and friends. He created a website to take passive aggressive pot shots to hurt all of us. I spent five weeks in Cincinnati and he never contacted me once. Neither did his son and one person or another informed him about our mother’s decline. He informed my aunt that “he moved on from us.”
We’ve been nothing but supportive during his disastrous life choices and he turned on all of us. He wasn’t even there for our mother’s death. This will haunt him until his dying day. I have a clear conscience.
My extended family have been nothing but supportive. Giving me a place to stay during this process, feeding me, providing emotional support. I can’t thank them enough. We are all better people because of this.
My mom suffered during her final days. My work isn’t complete until I help hold her facility tasked with her care accountable. So many other poor souls with no family like ours to visit them and I want to make someone aware they deserve an advocate like my mother did and I will do something. I’m not sure what but they all deserve to be protected from incompetence and neglect.
I wanted to share my final story and close this chapter on a difficult time in our lives. I’ll probably need to talk to someone eventually to process all that has happened. I’ve learned a lot about myself. Some good, some not so good. Who knows what 2026 has in store but I hope it will be better than 2025.
Here are some pictures of our shrine and my mom’s interment.
My Trip Back Home To Cincinnati is Complete
December 16, 2025
For at least now it has. What was expected to be only a few days back home turned into five weeks. Sometimes wonderful, much of the time it was excruciatingly painful.
What was originally planned as a pilgrimage to honor a friends passing quickly morphed into a parents hospice vigil. What was supposed to be a connection to my mom, evolved into becoming an advocate for her safety with evidence of neglect, incompetence and elder abuse.
With the amazing help of Hospice, I was able to make necessary steps in protecting my mom while she transitioned to death. It was an awful task, many would consider thankless, but I had to ensure her safety with reports of multiple falls, lack of basic requirements like food, water and medicine. Hospice helped fill on the gaps. They helped me see this process through with my mom with grace and empathy. I thank them for this.
I spent many days alone on this journey. I told my wife that I was extremely anxious about being able to step up as a son and perform the duties needed to care for my mother. She reassured me that when the time came, I’d rise to the occasion and I did. It was very difficult in the beginning because no one wants to see their mom suffer. I knew her prognosis and it was killing me to witness her decline but I pushed all of that deep down inside me and focused on the tasks at hand. It all became second nature to me.
Now those feelings are starting to come out and it hurts. Very bad right now. Whenever I left her room, I’d go to the car to release the pain I was feeling and started driving. A lot. I’d spend hours driving around Cincinnati. To old haunts, witnessing the changes that were taking place. Some I considered good, some not so good. Eminent domain dismantling the Clifton area I enjoyed for years so UC could command more presence in the community. It wasn’t a pleasant sight.
I needed places to unwind. Have a drink, sometimes too many drinks. I didn’t have my wife with me to help keep me balanced and found myself going off the rails, not eating well, downing anything put in front of me. I was a fucking mess. I fortunately made it out alive and didn’t kill anyone, or myself thank God.
I did run into some wonderful and caring folks at multiple places I frequented to blow off steam. The first place I ventured into was The City View Tavern in Mt.Adams. lauded as one of the oldest bars in Cincinnati, it probably has the best view of any place I’ve been to. It’s a no billshit bar. No martinis, no margaritas, it’s a beer and shot joint that has great burgers and a decent tap list. Cassidy was the bartender who I got to know and she became familiar with my mom’s situation, like most places eventually did and was extremely gracious with me every time I came in.
During my drives, I’d also try to do things that didn’t require pounding drinks and absolutely loved Eden Park. It helped me reflect on great times I had as a kid in Cincinnati. This included the Krohn Conservatory.
One of my favorite spots is the Northside Yacht Club. A cool hip eatery off of Spring Grove ave that has excellent pub food and a great beer list.
I ended up in Camp Washington. This was my first neighborhood I moved to when I decided to live on my own at nineteen. It’s a great concrete jungle where our backyards wall was the old Cincinnati workhouse. This also required an obligatory trip to Camp Washington Chili.
Another must visit was our old home as a toddler on Walker St. in Mt. Auburn. I had many fond memories as a little kid living there.
One Tavern I frequented was The Oak Tavern in Oakley. Everyone there knew my situation and I have to say, they were some of the nicest people I’ve ever met. This was pure Cincinnati love. Their food rocked as well.
Chili, it’s what’s for dinner! Including Skyline in Clifton. Nothing beats a hangover more than a five way and cheese coneys.
My friend Scot treated me to a few beers at Madtree in Oakley for my birthday. For a huge place, it ran like a well oiled machine and the beers were excellent.
My wife insisted on a return to Korean Riverside in Covington. I reluctantly agreed and Holy Jeebus, I forgot how wonderful that place is!!
Another amazing place my friend Scot mentioned was Bridges Nepalese cuisine in Northside. I’ve never tried this type of food before and it’s similar to a cross between Indian and Chinese food. It blew our minds.
I spent many nights at The Comet. I had to. It was a Northside institution, Dave was my friend and I loved that place. I got to see many old friends during my visit.
One of the last places we lived at was Covington Ky. I love that town. Our street had all historical homes on it including the house we rented. We’d love to live there again. Beautiful.
My family was amazingly supportive of my efforts. My Aunt Sue and Uncle Neal made my stay comfortable and I felt secure. Her dogs were wonderful. Willy, Archie and the great Mango. Neals dog Luna is amazing too. Oh, Sue is a great cook as well. Her mac-n-cheese is killer.
It’s all starting to come to the reality my mom is gone. My work has been done and there is now a huge void where my mom once was. I feel like an orphan. My brother has basically abandoned his family as well as his friends so it hurts even more how isolated I feel. If it weren’t for family and friends and their undying support and love, I’m not sure if would have made it through this. I miss my mom dearly. I think she’s looking over me though. When I turned on Pandora this morning, this was the first song on my list. I didn’t choose it. It chose me.
When You Lose Your Mother…
December 4, 2025
I prepared for months now. My family prepared. We had a mountain of obstacles facing us starting with my mothers health after an unfortunate bout with pneumonia which also was associated with congestive heart failure and kidney disease. Her mortality was staring me in the face yet I was completely unprepared for when she finally passed. But I’m doing ok I guess. It’s been devastating.
My mom was eighty one years old. For the last few years, we lost contact but for the obligatory birthday or mother’s day wishes but over and over again, one of us circled back around and we mended things because we both knew it was important to stay connected. Unfortunately my brother never got the memo. That’s his cross to bear. We’ve all moved on.
My mom could be a difficult woman to be around. Hypochondia, bipolar disorder and other afflictions interfered with daily relationships in which some survived, some didn’t. She lived her life by her own rules. I get it, but it was still difficult.
We fought a lot, but we always made up. We actually had a great relationship and I’m sorry for the recent years lost because of our suffocating pride. I was glad we reconnected and were able to have meaningful conversations before she started to decline. Even in some of her worst states, she was still able to conjure up some self deprecating humor by blurting out “I guess I’m just an entitled bitch aren’t I?”
Even dying she had an ability to get a chuckle out of me. Despite all of her foilables, she cared about her kids until her bipolar disorder took over. She struggled with this for decades. My folks were heavily involved in our sports, the high school band, making sure we had a good education, taking us on vacations and even financially supporting us in our twenties.
We, on the other hand were pretty shitty kids growing up. We stole from them, drove their cars drunk, trashed their house with huge parties when they were out of town. Hell, I even dressed in my dad’s police uniform during Halloween in which I got arrested. Despite that, my mother sent me money for rent, helped my brother with rent while we were both old enough to know better. They weren’t rich but they loved their kids. And they tried their best.
My mother and her family weren’t rich either. They all had struggles during their own formative years but everyone made it out one way or another. My mom owed me nothing when we reconciled. I actually owed her an apology for how awful I was at times.
I chose to be with her for her end of life struggles because that’s what son’s do. There is nothing either one of my parents did that kept me from seeing this through with her. I’d never forgive myself not being home with her during this awful time. Up to her last breath she knew I was with her and she held on till I showed up yesterday. It was the worst day of my life.
I wouldn’t have been able to get through this without the support of my family and friends. Aunt Sue, Uncle Neal, my Cousin Patrick who helped sit vigil with her, my Aunt Toni and the amazing people at Hospice. Even with everything facing us with a broken facility system, we made it work for mom. And she knew it.
It’s the day after my mom’s passing. I’m gutted. I was worried about not getting up quickly enough to go visit her today then realizing there are no more visits. That’s heart breaking. There’s a certain feeling of protection with knowing your parents are still living, even if they are older. That feeling of security has vanished. I feel extremely vulnerable right now. Everyone is reeling now but we will get through this. We will.
Her name was Marilyn and she was my mom. I don’t have many pics of her but when I find more I’ll post them.
