Why Honey?
Every company has a story – a narrative that brings meaning to its existence. The “how” and “why” propel a business forward, especially in its most formative stages.
Our story began with tragedy: death, grief, and loss. But, from that darkness, Honey Elixir Bar emerged, vibrant and alive. Great things often rise from human suffering. Many artists channel their creativity to process that which breaks them down and breaks them open. Having spent much of my life in hardship, I understood the importance of creating beauty from heartbreak. Let me take you back in time to the origins of Honey Elixir Bar.
In 2017, fresh from my graduation at Naropa University with a degree in Transpersonal Psychology, I had my sights on California. I submitted 3 applications into different psychology programs in California to continue my education and pursue a Doctorate in Counseling Psychology. Personal loss had driven my passion to help others navigate life’s challenges: my father had died in 2013, I sustained a major spinal injury in 2014, and a close friend succumbed to breast cancer in 2015. I felt a calling to offer support to those in pain.
That spring, I began moving into my best friend, Matt Lackey’s house, anticipating a summer of adventures before my move to California. Matt, meanwhile, was building out his chef dream. He spoke endlessly about his plans for his fast-casual restaurant in Denver’s RiNo Arts District. CandR, short for Chicken and Rosé, was to be a delicious vibe, tucked in the alley behind the Denver Central Market. Together, we met designers and artists, shared plans, discussed concepts, and explored his grand vision..
But, his vision never materialized. In April 2017, while on an early morning hike during a friend’s birthday celebration weekend at Mt. Princeton, Matt suffered a fatal fall. As his close-knit group received the news from the coroner, we were stranded without cell service to notify others, left only to grieve together in shock.
Driving home the next morning, the emptiness and eeriness of losing Matt felt impossible. Yet, a strange clarity settled over me; I could almost hear Matt’s instructions. He guided me to organize a memorial at his house. Following his “directions,” I set up a photo and memento shrine, opening the doors to his community, creating a space for collective grief.
Though I had never met his family, Matt’s mother invited me to his funeral in Tennessee. I knew I had to go; it felt like part of the plan Matt had laid out. Visiting his home, his family, and meeting so many of his friends, and visiting the places that had shaped him deepened my understanding of Matt’s legacy. Nashville welcomed us with memories and stories, the restaurants he had worked at opened up their kitchens and honored him in the spaces that grew his passion and talent.
At the funeral, I met Ken, the investor Matt had partnered with in Denver. We connected instantly, and he willingly explored Matt’s Nashville trail with us. Later, Ken and I co-hosted Matt’s Colorado memorial, where he made me a surprising offer: “Would you like to take over Matt’s opportunity?” Though I initially declined, intent on California, Ken encouraged me to think it over.
As days passed, I couldn’t shake the offer, yet I knew I didn’t want to open a fried chicken restaurant. Honoring Matt’s legacy, I envisioned a different model: CandR could stand for Community and Resourcing, creating a space focused on healing, therapy, and community events, with an elixir bar at its heart. Ken listened, and with his guidance, we streamlined the concept into a manageable 1,000-square-foot space nearby. Honey Elixir Bar was born.
From its inception, Honey Elixir Bar was non-negotiable in its focus on health, wellness, community, comfort, safety, art, music, and play. As a queer, neurodivergent creative, I infused every detail with intentionality, crafting a space that reflected my inner world.
Honey became my canvas, a labor of love born from loss. Over the past five years, being its steward has been an educational, challenging, and profoundly rewarding journey. The people I’ve met, the drinks we’ve curated, and the connections Honey has fostered—all of it speaks to the magic of Matt’s friendship and the loving community he left behind.
Thank you, Matt. I miss you everyday.